Shattered Crescent
by Rannaty
Summary: Ryou helps the police with a series of unsolved murders. Bakura is an eccentric artist who paints with blood. AU. Tendershipping, others hinted.
1. skilled tapir and crescent moon

**A/N:** The summary is a bit vague but I'm sure you all figure out… many things while reading this chapter ;) There will be some OOCness on Bakura's part but I'm hoping that as the story goes on, you'll see that he's more IC than he first may appear. Also, Bakura Ryou will be addressed by his last name by most people so don't get confused. The characters will be mentioned surname-first name, except for Malik because he's not Japanese. I debated with myself about Bakura's last name because I wanted it to be something no one had used before (and so it's not Touzoku or anything like that). Yes, I hope you like it, I do xD

(Edit: Reworded some sentences, hoping they'd start making more sense.)

* * *

**Shattered Crescent**

Part One

"So, Bakura, what do you think about all this?"

Brown eyes rose from the file Bakura Ryou had been reading and hiding behind. The whole room was looking at him, waiting to hear his opinion. A faint blush rose to his cheeks. The attention wasn't unwanted but not fully appreciated either. The head of the investigation team smiled at him in encouragement.

"Well…" Ryou spoke, his voice sounding quieter than he wished it to. He placed the file on the table, making sure it was straight. "Based on how the victims lack body parts it could be some kind of cult but cults are more systematic." He glanced around and got a round of nods from the people sitting and standing around the long table. "The victims are large and sometimes moved around so it's a male…" He paused; these situations always unnerved him, and looked at the file again for reference. "It could be a group but if it were, I think Mr. Nakashima's wife's throat would've also been slit like the other victims'."

The head of the team made an impatient gesture for him to go on. "So you agree with me on that. Good, but is there anything else?"

Ryou bit his lip, not liking the way his next statement sounded in his head. "There's rarely anything missing from the victims' home so I think he's doing it for the sake of killing, and also… there's no pattern in the missing body parts." He stopped to breath in and out. "When the police announced on TV that they're looking for the killer, two days later an officer got killed near the station, throat slit, and just one day after that two were killed in the apartment building next to the police station."

He looked around, hearing the heated whispering, and making eye contact with the head of investigation. "He's taunting us, 'Ha haa, I'm right under your noses and you can't catch me'."

The man ran a hand through his hair, letting out a heavy, stressed sigh. "He's toying with us."

Ryou nodded even though the statement did not require an answer. "I think… I think he's doing it for fun."

* * *

A lean figure crouched over a body of a middle aged round man. Blood flowed from the man's throat, tainting the blush carpet. A shame really; it was a pretty carpet. In the faint light coming from the window the one living inspected his knife and idly wiped it on his victim's shirt, flipping a stray lock of white hair away from his face. There was no blood on him thanks to the disposable rain coat he wore, a plastic hood covering his tied hair he worried about to the point of vanity.

He dug out a bone saw and with a trained hand, sunk it into the motionless arm. "Supplies, supplies," he said in sing-song and hummed while he worked. The lifeless eyes stared at him as if accusing him for maiming the body. The arm was placed inside a black garbage bag with the saw and the knife, and that done he flipped the bag over his shoulder before tipping his plastic glove covered finger into the pooling blood and bringing it to his lips. "Yes, yes, good material," he mumbled and patted the corpse on the cheek as he stood up. "Thanks for contributing."

A grin lit his face when he walked through the door, mind on something else already. No use worrying over spilt blood after all. Or was it perfume? He chuckled to himself and passed through an alley, disposing of his rain coat and gloves, lighting a match and throwing that in the garbage as well. The slowly starting fire lit the alleyway, casting tall shadows on the graffiti covered walls.

He put his free hand in his pants pocket and began humming again, a cheerful tune that once had words. Maybe his next work would feature fire somehow…

* * *

Ryou packed his things and got ready to go home. It was past midnight, he was getting tired and hungry. On his way out he passed several desks with people still behind them but stopped in front of a specific one. The occupant raised his head from the stack of papers. Tired eyes with bags forming under them found Ryou's gaze and held it.

Ryou offered a kind smile to his long time friend. "You should be heading home, too, Honda. You look terrible."

Honda Hiroto scowled at him, but it was more playful than anything. "You don't look too hot yourself. I was just finishing up."

Ryou left the comment about his hotness, or lack there of, alone and kept his smile on and his tone light. "Good, you can walk me home then."

"I was going to, anyway, what with all the dangerous people on the loose," Honda shrugged and got up, pulling on his coat and leaving the papers lying around. Ryou wiped the disapproving look from his face before the other had a chance to see it and followed him out the front entrance, beginning their journey home. Ryou lived just a few streets down and Honda a little ways from there, both in convenient distances. They had met in high school and when Honda wanted to be a police officer, Ryou went to study criminal psychology but they had managed to stay in touch, unlike some of the other people in their small group who life had took farther away.

"Bakura? You seem so absent. The new case bothering you?" Honda asked when he noticed the thoughtful frown on his friend's face. Ryou raised his eyes from the pavement, blinking the out-of-it look away. He might have had more knowledge of human nature but Honda was pretty good at guessing.

"Well, yes… I've never been a part of an investigation like this, or should I say, never tried to catch anyone who…" He shook his head, smile firmly attached again. "I'm not going to lose my sleep over it, though. This will be just a bit more complicated, that's all." He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Honda or himself. Either way, it wasn't working.

"Yeah…" Honda drew out. "Maybe you should take a sleeping pill anyway and, you know, get a good night's sleep to work it out."

Ryou waved his hand, dismissing the suggestion. "No need, I'll be fine, and besides, I really don't want to resort to any sort of medicines again."

Ryou's apartment building came to view much to his relief; he wanted to go to bed and stop talking about the new case. The discussion was starting to annoy him because he was sure that if he had to keep thinking about it, he would never get any sleep.

He flashed Honda a tired smile before getting out his keys. "It's good to get home… Are you sure you'll be fine walking alone?"

"Of course." Honda smirked at him and waved, turning to go home. Ryou's teeth found his lip and he called after his friend's retreating back, deciding to voice what was eating him.

"Hiroto!" The other turned. "What if I can't solve it?"

Honda smiled sadly. "You're not alone, Ryou. Good night."

"Night…"

The words gave him some comfort but as the alarm clock on his night stand neared morning, he was still lying awake, watching the ceiling and occasionally glancing at the clock. The red numbers glowed as the only source of light and seemed much brighter than they were, casting a red hue on his face. He turned towards the wall so he wouldn't have to look at the numbers. He couldn't let them ruin his sleep.

In reality, it wasn't the red numbers that kept him awake. Every time he closed his eyes and dozed off, he could see the pictures of the victims lying on their own blood and Mrs. Nakashima's horrified face as the last thing she saw was her dead husband. Maybe he wasn't cut out for this… He wanted to help people and this work was interesting and gave him the opportunity to do so. However, if he couldn't handle the mental strain, he would have to quit.

He had always been the empathetic kind, perhaps overly so, and where that gave him the ability to figure out motives, it also effected to his reactions towards the victims' relatives.

"I can't quit now…"

If he would change profession in the end, he couldn't do it now when he had to help the police to find this murderer who had taken so many lives and made so many people sad. His sense of duty would never let him.

He finally gave up on sleep and turned on the small lamp on his bedside table. The clock showed four a.m. as Ryou got up to go to the kitchen. The apartment was small, decorated only with pictures of family and friends and some paintings he had found and liked. It was enough for him but some times he wished that he would have someone to share it with, even if it wasn't big enough to share.

Ryou turned on the lights in the kitchen and went to pull a kettle out of one of the cupboards. Some tea would be great right about now.

He jumped to sit on the counter and wait for the water to boil, swinging his legs and humming a small tune. His spotless kitchen made him feel better though he wasn't sure why. It had an air of calm about it, he guessed and heard the water to boil.

* * *

Kaiba Seto was annoyed in advance as he rode down the busy streets of Domino. He had to visit his egoistical and quirky acquaintance to see if everything would be ready for Friday. He would have done it over the phone if Mikazuki wasn't such a fluent liar. Bullshit seemed to be just one of the languages the man spoke.

It didn't help the matter any that the visitors' tours had started as a part of a campaign in KaibaCorp and it caused tons of extra disturbance. Seto rubbed the bridge of his nose and hoped he had some aspirin as the visit was bound to make his head pound even more.

The car stopped in front of a new apartment building with large, shining windows. Seto stepped out, wondering how that bastard had talked him into buying him the apartment, or an atelier, as he put it. The place was on the top floor and the new metallic alleviator took Seto up, playing a horrible tune to keep him entertained.

He smirked grimly as the door presented itself in all its wooden glory. Mokuba would have been so proud to see him visit a friend, though the term was used loosely in this case. A set of keys was dug out and one was inserted into the lock. He wouldn't have to be in there more than ten minutes max and then he would have it done and out of his mind for good.

* * *

Mikazuki Bakura heard his door click and spun away from his unfinished work to meet an icy glare. A smile far too wide to be real split his face to mach his tone. "Ah, Seto! How did you get in?"

The visitor hung a set of keys in the air. "You gave me a spare key," he spoke flatly, looking at Bakura like he was an idiot. In fact, Bakura was sure Kaiba thought him to be just that.

"Oh. I did, didn't I?" Bakura tapped his chin with his paint brush and looked up in thought. "Funny how I don't recall… I must have been drunk then."

Kaiba rolled his eyes. "You're never drunk, Mikazuki."

Bakura blinked at him. "Then I must have dementia."

"You are demented alright…"

The self proclaimed artistic genius laughed at the remark, brush shaking in the air, dotting the floor with red. "You have such a way with words, Seto. The ladies must be all over you."

Kaiba huffed in annoyance. "How many times do I have to tell you not to-" He was rudely interrupted by the other end of the paint brush pressed on his lips, luckily for him it wasn't the end with paint on it.

"Hush, _Seto_. I have something to show you, _Seto_." Bakura whirled around to lift his latest finished work from the floor where it had been leaning on a wall, and spun back to present it to his uninvited, not to mention reluctant, guest. "I just finished this last night, just in time." If his little fan base who mostly consisted of women, fancy that, wouldn't like this one, then… It wouldn't really matter either way; _he_ liked it.

Kaiba looked at it with a critical eye, a brow rising before he spoke. "Remind me why I'm sponsoring you again?"

"Because I'm so damn hot, baby!" Bakura cackled at his own humor and his visitor stared at him with a bored look. "Oh come now, Seto. You have your own sarcastic and _mean_ humor and I have My egoistical one."

Kaiba's expression remained flat at all times. "Ha haa…"

Bakura grinned; how he loved that annoyed sarcasm, it always made his day. "That's better. As for my funding, it's for old time's sake and perhaps for your image because, and I quote, 'Mikazuki Bakura is a new upstanding artist with fresh and crazy ideas, disturbing the world of art and upsetting many'. Unquote." He added the last part as if it would otherwise be unclear that he stopped quoting.

"Isn't that a negative review?"

He shrugged, placing the painting back down. "All publicity is good publicity. Besides people are queuing to see My art."

"Only to see what's so upsetting about it."

Bakura's eyes widened dramatically and he held a hand over his heart before he had even spun around to face the other. "Et tu, Brute? I thought we were friends!"

Kaiba's eyebrow rose. "Since when? Seriously, Mikazuki, I haven't even cut off your funding yet, don't be so dramatic."

"I knew I could count on you." Bakura reached up to pat Kaiba's head. "Have you grown?"

Kaiba swapped the hand away. "Get your hands off of me. I'm leaving, I can't stand you anymore."

Bakura grinned, enjoying annoying the other. "Aw, I love you too, let's keep in touch."

"As if I had a choice. I'm coming to your 'art night' this Friday so you better be there and make sure everything goes smoothly."

"Well if you're going to be there…"

"Oh shut up."

* * *

Hiroto came to work that morning like every other morning and immediately noticed something wrong with Bakura Ryou. The other looked like he hadn't been sleeping much, his head nodding once in a while as he dozed off. Hiroto couldn't blame him though; he was glad he wasn't part of the investigation and stuck to smaller cases. Bakura hadn't heeded Hiroto's words about the sleeping pills either but that was understandable. The last time, he had gotten addicted.

Hiroto could see his friend farther up the hall, talking to a senior officer, once in a while smiling in that polite way of his and nodding his head. Lunch hour was nearing and Hiroto thought that he would offer his friend a lunch. Maybe he could find out more about what was troubling the other.

Half an hour later he met up with Bakura like they had agreed on that morning. The slighter male was sleeping in a chair, chin leaning on his chest. Hiroto almost didn't wake him up but going without food would only make things worse. He shook the other's shoulder gently. "Bakura, hey wake up, it's lunch time."

"Unh wha..?" The young man raised his head, trying to blink the sleep away. "Oh, Honda, what?"

"Lunch, I'll pay." He smiled but it faded when something flickered past the other's eyes.

"Um… I have to go to the bathroom first."

Hiroto knew this was an excuse because his friend didn't want to turn him down. For some reason, Bakura wanted to go alone. The guilty face was a dead give away. "Ok, I'll… wait outside."

Bakura smiled and soon disappeared behind a corner. Hiroto sighed; the bathrooms weren't even in that direction. The other sucked at lying.

He left to go get some lunch by himself, knowing that Bakura would soon feel bad for ditching him and would come back to him. He would have liked to spend his lunch hour with Ry- Bakura who was all around pleasant to be with and pleasing to look at, but realized when he needed his own space. Hiroto just wished his friend would talk about his negative emotions, too, and not just the positive ones like he tended to do. Bakura was always hiding behind a smile.

* * *

Stepping out of the airport, Malik Ishtar stretched after the long flight from Egypt and gazed at Domino City. No one at home knew where he had gone. He would have a few days before his sister would come to look for him, no doubt somehow finding out he had gone to Japan. Only a few days to get things done and over with before getting dragged back by the neck.

He could see the tall KaibaCorp building in the distance before going down the stairs to a subway station, hoping to find the right station to get to the center. He had never been here before and had only studied some maps back home. Good thing he could ask for directions.

The place was crowded but getting where he wanted didn't prove to be as difficult as he had thought it would be. Soon, he was sitting on a plastic bench, strange people surrounding him on all sides. His Japanese was fairly good and he could understand almost all the conversations around him, the topics varying from pointless family affairs to strange murders. If people were already dying, what's a few more? He listened in on the murder conversation while deciding how to go about his unformed plans.

* * *

Ryou had snuck out to have his lunch break alone. He needed some time to think and the fresh air was wonderful. Perhaps he would stop at his favorite coffee shop to grab something while he was on the move. The sun was shining and people were out and about to get lunch and to meet up with friends. A small smile made it on his face despite his troubled mind. How could he not be cheerful on such a beautiful day?

He stopped by at the coffee shop and got a coffee to go and a large sandwich to munch on. A huge poster caught his eye as he walked on and he stopped to stare at it. Various tones of red made a scenery unlike he had ever seen before. Not that he had much experience about art, just a small fascination. The scenery was strange with open mouths and empty eyes hanging in the sky. It held striking resemblance to Domino City. Ryou stared at it for a good while, not sure if it was beautiful or frightening. His eyes drifted to the bottom of the poster where "Art of Mikazuki Bakura" was written with bold red letters on a white surface and Ryou discovered it was some sort of an exhibition. "Bakura", though…

Ryou glanced at the picture again and decided that it would be fun to go, even if just to see if all Mikazuki's work was like this. The time set for it was from twelve p.m. to four a.m. How weird. In the middle of the night? Who in their right mind would organize something like that in the middle of a night, expecting audience? The days were Friday and Saturday, though. It didn't matter if he stayed up late, and even though he thought it was rather insane, the late hours interested him. Maybe he would even get to meet the artist himself.

He felt much better now when he had something else than work to do over the weekend and set out to find Honda. He had walked out on his friend earlier and he felt like he should apologize. He would ask Honda to come with him but he wasn't one for art and would probably get bored. Ryou spared the strange image one last glance before heading back towards the police station to go find Honda.

* * *

Opinions? 


	2. beyond happiness and sadness

**A/N:** Something I forgot to mention in the last chapter: "Et tu, Brute?" was what Caesar said when his best friend, Brutus, stabbed him on the back. Also, thank you for all the reviews on the first chapter! There were so many! Go right ahead, read, and if you feel like it, review. I encourage critique so don't be afraid to tell me if there's something wrong or if something could be improved.

(Edit: Some rewording. Shortening of a/n. Some unnecessary words removed.)

* * *

**Shattered Crescent**

Part Two

Malik woke up in his hotel room, sweating and breathing heavily after another nightmare. It was dark out but the lights of Domino illuminated the room. Cars drove past the hotel in an endless flow and the occasional truck made the windows shake. Malik had lived most of his life in the countryside but had moved to the city with his family. He had yet to get used to the busy city life.

What was left of his family could no longer live in the middle of nowhere and had no reason to avoid the city, his sister's job forcing them to move. There were more people his age around him now but Malik had found himself unhappy with his current life. He had to do something and coming here had seemed like a good idea. It still did as his goal appeared reachable.

He got up, not wishing to sleep anymore, and walked to the window, a grim look on his face as he gazed at the tall, lit buildings, the huge KC sign shinning in the distance. Today at 5.30 p.m. the second to the last tour around KaibaCorp would start and he would have to be on it. Before that he would have plenty of time to look around the city.

Malik felt his nightshirt clued on his back and decided to take a shower and change. The clock showed three in the morning when he passed it on his way to the bathroom. Maybe he could go out for a bit; it wasn't like he couldn't take care of himself. There were still people out and about even though it was Wednesday. He wouldn't look suspicious.

He got dressed more warmly than the locals deemed necessary at this time of the year and headed out, making sure that he had the keycard for the room with him before locking up.

* * *

The place was filled to the brim with people Bakura didn't care to know but who he socialized with. His wine tasted funny so someone must have spiked it. See if he ever asked these people to get him anything again. Some poor guy must have fallen victim to alcohol as he was reciting a bad poem, his voice slurring so Bakura couldn't tell what it was about. As if he could hear anything over the loud, ill-mannered mob. Something about flowers.

Bakura decided to pour his drink down some random person's shirt and go mock the drunken poet. The man with wine down his shirt turned and there was a metallic flash. Bakura was faster, pressing his switchblade on the guy's crotch with just enough force to break the fabric.

"Drop that knife or never have children," Bakura told, grinning as the other's expression went from anger to fear, licking his canine. The knife hit the floor with a clank and he kicked it away, removing his weapon and starting to walk towards the exit, not feeling like staying anymore. He needed some fresh air, and maybe he could get some painting done tonight.

Bakura walked down the empty street that would take him home. Tonight there would be no escapades as Friday was nearing and he had a lot to do. He had to get most of his works down to the gallery. It had been put off until the last minute but "last minute" was on him and today had gone to waste.

He looked up to see the sky lit up by the city lights. No starts in sight. The starless sky distracted him enough to make him bump into someone. 'Someone' jumped back and they both put a hand in their pocket, Bakura fiddling with his blade. He eyed the other, measuring him up and the stranger seemed to mimic his actions. There could have been a flash of something unnaturally cold and murderous behind those eyes but Bakura decided that it was just the light playing tricks on him. Unnerving, the light.

The man wasn't from around there, skin tone too dark for Japanese. Then there were strange colored eyes and hair that didn't match the skin tone. The foreigner looked at him with a wary eye, wearing way too much clothing for such a warm night.

Bakura smirked and pulled his hand out of his pocket, his shoulders relaxing. "I don't want to start anything, just watch where you're going next time." He wondered of this guy understood Japanese and was about to try something else when the other answered.

"_You_ bumped into _me_. You watch." The accent was weird but the words were understandable.

"Whatever. It's not wise to walk around here alone. You should be at home, kid." They were about the same age but that didn't stop him.

"Humph, same goes for you, _old man_. I'm old enough to decide what I do and when on my own." The foreigner smirked, removing his hand from his pocket. He let his shoulders fall but remained tense. The slight arrogant air coming from him made Bakura's eye switch.

Bakura shrugged the annoyance off. "Perhaps. I was heading home anyway so if you excuse Me…" He walked past the other, keeping an eye on him as he did so. Continuing his journey home, Bakura didn't care what the stranger was doing in the middle of the night. As long as it didn't concern him, it none of his business.

As soon as he got home, he toed off his shoes and went to the main room, the only room besides the kitchen, and dug out his brushes and paint. The white canvas glared at him and mocked his lack of inspiration. The spout of inspiration had passed and left emptiness on its wake. Nothing came to him, not even when he dug out an unfinished piece.

Bakura slumped on his two person couch, rubbing his temples. He needed a source of inspiration! Turning on the TV, he hoped to see something of interest but gave up. The TV only served to give him a headache. Maybe he wasn't miserable or hopelessly in love enough to produce art. Bakura laughed at the thought but it triggered something inside his brain. He got up to take on the white canvas.

* * *

Ryou waved at his friends and colleagues after entering a small diner where they had agreed to have lunch together. Honda was already sitting down so Ryou guessed he was running late.

"Hi guys, sorry I took so long." Ryou took a seat at the big round table, looking for a free menu.

"What kept you?" Honda asked from his right, handing him a list no one was using.

Ryou shrugged. "Stuff, I lost track of time." The world got blocked out a lot with him. Deep thought only bothered him when it made him late or caused him to space out in a middle of a conversation.

"You're turning into a workaholic." Honda shook his head, smiling. "I heard getting a life helps for that."

"For your information," Ryou huffed, not angry but having heard the "get a life" comment plenty of times. He had a life; it just included work, books and quiet weekends in his apartment. "I have plans for this weekend that don't involve work."

Honda looked skeptical. "Like what?"

"I'm going to go see art by some Mikazuki Bakura," he informed, sparking a conversation.

"Hey, my wife's going there, too," a man spoke from the other side of the table.

"So is my girlfriend," told the guy sitting on Ryou's left.

"See, you're going somewhere only women are going," Honda pointed out. "You should come have some beer with me instead."

"Honda you know I don't drink. I don't even like beer," Ryou told while someone else piped up.

"I heard the women aren't really going there for the art if you know what I mean."

"…I think I'm going with my wife after all…" muttered the man sitting on the opposite side. He was ignored.

Ryou turned curiously towards the speaker. "Why are they going then?" Wasn't the point of going to an art exhibition to see, and appreciate, the art?

"Oh they're going for the artist, Mikazuki or what you said his name was." He took a sip of his water. "He's a looker, though some say he's sort of weird."

"I see…" Ryou wondered if the artist really was weird or was that comment only there to protect the men's egos.

The conversation went on from that, topics varying, as they got their food. Someone showed them a picture of his new born son. Ryou watched silently and ate, learning to know the ones he hadn't before. Everyone has hopes and dreams, goals and values that eventually come up in an open conversation. Ryou was more inclined towards listening than talking but he too commented occasionally, opting for smiling and nodding most of the time. Someone had once told him that he smiled too much. Maybe he did but why frown when he could smile?

The lunch hour ended and they separated. They weren't friends outside of work but it was nice to spend time together. Ryou felt lonely sometimes even though he had Honda and his workmates. He didn't have anyone special yet because it was difficult for him to meet anyone since he didn't go out much. He had dated before but not much since university. It didn't seem all that important to him as he was so busy with work. There was the social pressure, though, since some people his age were already married with children. In his case, he and his partner would be physically unable to produce children.

Ryou shook his thoughts away for the time being when he reached the police station. No use mulling over things like that, he had work to do.

* * *

Seto put his cell phone away after his brief talk with one of his guards. Someone had disappeared from a tour and the security had thought it could be a potential risk. People got lost all the time and he was always informed about it as if everyone was an assassin. Assassins didn't go on tours, according to former experience. The missing would be found and returned to their right location though, and none of them had been after his life. He had told his security to tighten it up during the tours but this wasn't what he had meant.

He was sure he had people after his life so maybe the guards weren't being entirely unreasonable. So far no one had even come close to being a threat with all the top notch security systems in the KC building and in the mansion. The only person who had ever broken into his home happened to be that no good bastard of a friend, Mikazuki, and that had been for "fun". The benefit of having Mikazuki as a friend was that at least he wouldn't have anyone skilled after his life.

Seto snorted and decided to stop thinking about anything but the things that needed to be done. His office doors were at the end of the hallway he was walking down and he couldn't wait to get there, lock the door and pull an all-nighter. Sleeping was for lazy people.

* * *

"If you drop that, you'll die."

No one dropped any paintings after Bakura arrived to observe the scene. He wanted to make sure that everything would be ready for Friday night and that none of his precious paintings were harmed. As he looked around, he didn't spot anything wrong until he turned and saw a person hang his work on the wall.

It was the wrong way around.

Bakura strode across the room and tapped the misfortunate guy on the shoulder, making the young man turn around.

"Hello, I couldn't help noticing how you hung My baby _upside down_. Would you like to hang upside down?"

The other gulped and rubbed the back of his head, letting out an awkward laugh. "Sorry, I thought it looked better this way."

"Did you now?" A fake pleasant smile twisted Bakura's face, looking horribly off on his features. He brought his arm around the other's shoulders and pulled him close. "That's why _I'm_ the artist and _you're_ the unemployed construction site worker," he told, tone sugary sweet but the red tint of his brown eyes flashed, the change even more brought out by the lights of the room. The fake smile disappeared and he hissed, "_Now turn it around_."

"Y-yes sir, right away."

Bakura smirked. "Good boy." He pinched the boy's cheek before letting go and walking away to check up on something else that caught his eye. He lifted a painting up from the floor and hung it up, leaving it crooked without even realizing it.

The white walls were a disgrace but Bakura hadn't been able to persuade the owners of the place to let him do anything about it. He had wanted to paint them with some other color as all the white made his eyes bleed, figuratively speaking of course.

Done with mentally complaining about the walls once again, Bakura's eyes widened when he saw a worker picking his nose. "Get that finger out of your nose before I shove it up your ass! Don't you dare touch My paintings with that hand!" Bakura growled and the poor soul paled and quickly removed his finger from the general facility of his nose.

"Mr. Mikazuki," a suit clad woman spoke, walking across the room, heals clicking against the floor. She was the one Kaiba hired, Bakura guessed, not sure why was she here. As if he wasn't capable of organizing this on his own. "I understand that you're passionate about your work but please refrain from threatening the hired hands."

Bakura raised an eyebrow at her after sending one last glare towards the nose picker. "Even if those 'hired hands' had half of their hand up something that's supposed to be used for breathing?"

She smiled calmly. "It was only a finger, Mr. Mikazuki."

Bakura ignored her and went on his merry way, off to turn another painting right side up. Damn incompetence, made him want to- Actually, the nose picker seemed strong enough to put up a nice fight… Hello new inspiration!

* * *

Ryou leaned over a desk he had spread all the photographs of the latest crime scene on. He had just gotten them after everyone else on the team had looked them through and it was getting late. It was nothing new to him, staying in late, and it didn't bother him. Some days, he could stay at home and work but he preferred not to. It was lonely at home. Ryou had thought about getting a pet but it didn't seem like such a great idea because he was always working.

Back to the case at hand, he had been told that there were a lot of signs of a fight this time. Broken furniture, even broken bones, and then there was that punch mark on the victim's left cheek. There was nothing weird about a bruise gotten in a fight but near the middle of the mark there was a shape pressed on the cheek.

No one was sure where it had come from but they suspected that the attacker had been wearing a ring. The way the victim was killed was the same but no missing limbs this time. There was always the possibility that it wasn't the same person since murderers with a trademark way of killing tended to gain impersonators, but the mark was still the best clue they had so far.

Ryou tore his eyes away from the photos. The victim had been younger than the rest, a young man who had just reached adulthood. He had had his whole life ahead of him but now there was only the hysteric, grieving girlfriend with an engagement ring.

He gathered up the pictures, piling them up neatly and placing the pile in the middle of the otherwise empty desk. He couldn't let this get to him. "Get a grip, Ryou."

Ryou sat down and leaned his head on his hand, staring at the picture pile. The victims were ambushed and killed without a fuss so why had there been a fight this time? Did the murderer screw up? Ryou leaned back and shook his head. This one made no mistakes; he must have had a reason for wanting to fight.

Ryou frowned. "The thrill of the kill, having your victim struggle but eventually…" he muttered. No missing limbs or body parts, no gain besides the amusement factor… Ryou sat up. The killer must have known that this one could put up a fight somehow.

"You still here?"

Ryou jumped in his seat and snapped his head around to see Honda. He relaxed visibly and smiled, all traces of his thoughtful frown gone. "Don't scare me like that. I'm leaving in a few minutes," but only for the sake of not making Honda worry; he could always work more at home. There were things he needed to write down so he wouldn't forget and-

"Bakura, I started calling for you since I entered the room, I didn't exactly sneak up on you, and you don't look like you're going anywhere."

Ryou got up, pushing his thoughts aside for a second, and packed his things without a word, walking out once done, deep in thought again. He didn't see Honda shake his head before following but the gesture was there and behind the amusement, there was deep worry.

* * *

_A sharp edge of the knife was pressed against the young man's throat and he finally stopped struggling. Mad grin lit the attacker's face, a trace of blood forming under the knife as the skin broke._

"_Please… don't."_

_The other man laughed at the choked out plea, twisting the arm in his grip in a more painful angle. A strangled cry was let out, sparking a new sadistic chuckle._

"_No use pleading. Hm, nice engagement ring you have there." The comment seemed random and out of context but that didn't matter to either of them. _

"_We're getting married next month… please…"_

_The grin that had never faded became more twisted, displaying the insane glee of the one who wore it. "Aw, too bad."_

_The other looked like he was going to yell but the sound never left his mouth as blood spit out, the knife having slit through the tender flesh. The attacker let go and the lifeless body hit the floor of the small student apartment._

Bakura hummed as he let the final drops of blood drip from the sliced open arm before stuffing the arm into a meat grinder.

The local stray dogs were always hungry.

He threw the packed blood in to the freezer, checking that he still had plenty to spare. There wasn't much but it would do for now; he needed to sleep.

Light of dawn shone through the window when he walked into the main room. A grim look passed his face before he pulled the black curtains, leaving the apartment in darkness again. It was better that way.

Bakura tossed a pile of clothes off the mattress located in the corner of the living space. He wondered if they were dirty or clean before kneeling and letting himself fall on the mattress, narrowly missing the wall. His head had hit the wall a couple of times. Perhaps he had gotten brain damage; that would sure explain a lot.

Sleep didn't come right away and he tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position and to shut off his mind. The things he did for the sake of his art hardly gave him nightmares or caused him to lose sleep. They weren't nightmare material; people died all the time anyway. He hoped they gave nightmares to someone else, grinning at the thought.

The grin was wiped away when he heard the couple living down stairs fight over something again. Bakura could hear them almost every day and thought that with all the things they broke while fighting, they didn't have any objects left smaller than the couch. No wonder he wasn't in a relationship; it sounded painful. He didn't fear pain but it wasn't like there was anyone even half interesting out there who could grab his attention and hold it longer than one night. Needless to say, his weren't the most meaningful of relationships.


	3. different feeling

**A/N:** Hi! Knowing that Mikazuki means crescent moon will help you understand one bit of this chapter. Also, despite the fact that so far there's been more Bakura and Malik interaction, this will not be turning into a Bakura/Malik fic, just so you know.

* * *

**Shattered Crescent**

Part Three

"But Rishid, I have no idea where he is," told Ishizu Ishtar, normally calm and collected but now worried sick about her brother. "All he did was leave a note saying he was taking care of something." She paced back and forth in her stepbrother's room, waving said note in the air. "He could have been a bit more specific."

The man sitting on a desk chair had listened calmly until now, speaking up for the first time since Ishizu had burst into the room. "Maybe you should give him some space; he isn't a little boy anymore."

Ishizu stopped, turning to Rishid, her shoulders slumping. "I know that, but I worry. What if something happens to him? Just because I wasn't there to protect him again? I couldn't bear it." Ishizu knew her oldest brother was worried too; he was just calmer about it. She couldn't let her baby brother just walk out like that, into the big bad world. Anything could happen and nothing good had ever come out of disappearing Maliks.

Rishid did not smile but his eyes softened. "Malik can take care of himself now."

New determination showed in Ishizu but it had nothing to do with Rishid's words. "I'm going to go find him."

"But Ishizu-" He was ignored as Ishizu disappeared through the doorway, closing the door with a bit more force than necessary.

She would find Malik and bring him back home where he was safe from harm and where she could look over him and make sure the past wouldn't repeat itself. Malik would be home in no time at all, and even though he might be angry with her, he would eventually thank her. Ishizu was convinced she knew better because she had always been right in the past. Malik just refused to acknowledge the fact and always got in trouble without her.

Yes, Ishizu knew what was best for her little brother.

* * *

Ishizu knew nothing but without her constant pampering, Malik probably hadn't had the urge to go wandering around on his own, which in turn taught him all sort of useful skills needed in life, manipulation being just one of them. The looking after had been done out of guilt but Ishizu didn't realize that Malik had never blamed her. Those thoughts were unwanted now though so he pushed them aside and eyed the building and the double doors in front of him warily. Earlier that day, he had heard of this place from some people in a street corner and they had told that it was perfectly legal but the people inside weren't.

The neon letters above the door read "Devil's Lair" but the D flicked on and off so occasionally the name morphed into "evil's Lair", which seemed better suited for the bar's reputation. Malik had been told the worst scum of Domino hung out there but among the worst, were also the best of the worst.

He pushed one of the two doors open and strode in, still a bit on edge but not letting it show. His senses were assaulted by cigarette smoke that hung over the round tables sprinkled around in seemingly random patterns, faint music and chatter being the dominating sounds. There was no bouncer but he supposed that most, if not all, of these people had some sort of weapon; who would want to start something when he or she could be stabbed or shot by anyone present?

Few of the customers glanced his way but otherwise Malik was left alone to sit in a table near the back. On the small stage in the opposite end someone stood, nose buried on a piece of paper, reading aloud something Malik guessed was a poem. He thought this was strange but decided not to judge since he wasn't in Egypt anymore.

The trip to the KC tower had been uneventful but hadn't gone to waste. He had talked with one of the security guards and with some innocent curiosity and pleasant behavior he had gotten all sort of information. It was amazing how gullible some people could be but he wasn't complaining as it worked for his advantage.

While Malik scanned his surroundings, he was surprised to find a familiar face among the crowd. It was the man from last night who had run into him. His sister would have said that coming across the same person twice in a big city like this was a sign and now their destinies had been intertwined or something, to which Malik would have rolled his eyes, and even without his sister present, he did just that.

* * *

_Empty eyes stared up at him, mouth open in silent scream. A girl with long flowing black hair shrieked from behind him, choking on her sobs. "No! Next month! Next month! No!" She made no sense and Ryou covered his ears but couldn't block out the sound. It penetrated his skull and before he noticed, warm liquid was pouring out from his ears, tainting his deathly pale hands and turning black._

_The empty eyed man gripped his hands, one eye staring at him but the other looking up. "That's mine. You stole it."_

_Ryou screamed when the black liquid reached his knees and the man refused to let go. Mrs. Nakashima floated by, a knife sticking out of her forehead when she turned her head, body otherwise motionless, to stare at him. The knife fell off and a yell cut through the air but Ryou didn't know whose it was…_

Ryou shot up from his bed, distorted and panting. He looked around in panic before realizing where he was, calming down bit by bit, taking deep breaths. Not another one of those…

He fell back on the bed, head hitting the puffy pillow. All he wanted was to sleep, not too much to ask. Tomorrow was the last day of work before the weekend and it would be nice to wake up refreshed but no. No restful sleep for Ryou. Ryou hadn't earned his sleep by catching the evil man yet.

Ryou thought about getting up and going to his medicine cabinet for help but decided against it. That would do no good in the long run. He closed his eyes again instead, sighing and pulling his covers up to his chin. He couldn't wait for morning.

* * *

"Hey, Sawaga," Bakura spoke to the bartender. "Do you know who's he?" He nodded towards the tanned blond sitting near the back, the same one who had walked into him the night before. It was an odd coincidence that they met again and he was a bit curious to know why. The man in his mid thirties glanced at the direction Bakura had pointed, frowning.

"Not a clue. This is the first time I've seen him here and I haven't had the chance to talk to him yet."

Bakura grinned at the familiar man. "Humph, funny; normally you can't wait to interrogate the new ones."

Sawaga gave him a mock glare. "Watch it, Bakura, or I might stop sharing the gossip with you."

The young regular customer just laughed, knowing the other wasn't being serious. "You wouldn't do that, I'm your best customer." The comment got a huff and the bartender tried to swap Bakura with his disk towel.

"Sure you are. Get out of my sight before you piss me off."

Bakura had jumped down from his stool to dodge the towel and now backed off with a smirk. "Alright, I can tell when I'm unwanted. I'll just go bother someone else."

He began his way across the bar, walking past the tables, nodding to some people and sometimes exchanging a few words but the entire time heading towards his goal. The blond had noticed him and met his gaze and held it when Bakura was just few meters away from the table, the weird colored eyes looking somewhat suspicious.

Bakura sat opposite to the foreigner and leaned his chin on his palm, smirking a bit at the annoyance that flashed on the other's face.

"I don't remember inviting you to sit with me," told the stranger, leaning back in his seat.

"You looked so _awfully _alone here all by yourself I thought I'd keep you company."

The other smiled, also leaning on the table, voice as close to pleasant as he could get it. "How _thoughtful_ of you, but, you see, I don't want your company so get the hell off my space." The smile never left his face as he spoke, never losing its warm and friendly quality.

Bakura just snorted at first but could help the laughter that burst through much to the other's utter annoyance. He calmed down after a while, just a grin remaining. "Got to give you points for the smile." The grin faded into a more serious expression. "Seriously though, what brings you to Domino? Not just sightseeing, are you?" As if someone came sightseeing _here_.

The other male crossed his fingers and leaned his head on them. "Why do you want to know?"

Bakura shrugged. "Out of curiosity. This is the second time I've seen you around these corners. Looking for someone to do your dirty work?" The raised eyebrow he got told that he had hit close home and decided to push a bit further. "You've come to the right place then."

The eyebrow went down to assist its companion in some frowning. "Look, I'm not discussing this with you but there is something I want taken care of."

"You should talk to Sawaga." Bakura gestured towards the bartender. "He knows everything about everyone."

After a moment of silence the other nodded. "Alright." He eyed Bakura a bit longer, a smirk forming. "I'm Malik by the way."

Bakura didn't like the look he was getting because it was too close to the one he sometimes gave to others and it never meant good for them. Despite any unease he was feeling, he returned the smirk. "Bakura."

* * *

Stepping through the gallery door, Ryou felt out of place. Most, if not all, the people inside seemed to be women at first glance. Well dressed women. Ryou hadn't been sure how he should dress so he had decided on one of his better plain white T-shirts and grey jeans that were worn around the knee area. The good thing was that because of the white walls, he was unlikely to stand out.

No one paid him any mind when he walked farther into the room, the ladies too busy talking amongst themselves and the few men too bored to notice anything, some paying more attention to the art than others. Ryou was glad no one noticed, or cared, how out of place he was and looked around, one particular painting catching his eye. He stopped to take a good look at it, taking in how the tones of red varied from almost white to deep crimson.

The image was of a crescent moon but it appeared warped, broken, with cracks running through it and pieces hanging loose, disfigured, and threatened to be swallowed by the darkness of the background. For some reason, watching it saddened Ryou and unsettled him, made him feel on edge and just a tiny bit paranoid. There was something so desperate about it, like in a cry for help, and Ryou reached out a finger to touch it, to comfort it, when the spell of the painting was broken by a voice.

"Do you like it?"

Ryou withdrew his hand and turned to look over his shoulder where the source of the voice was standing far too close and in his personal bubble. Ryou took a step away to have some more room in between them, and stared. The man had his white hair, almost the same shade as Ryou's, tied loosely, and a dark red button up, the same color as the liquid in his wineglass, revealing a slice of pale chest. His stance was confident and his eyes that appeared to match his shirt were fixed on Ryou.

Ryou shivered, blaming it on the temperature of the room and on the effect of the painting. Something dawned to him. "Mikazuki," he whispered, glancing back at the painting, then at the man who had raised an eyebrow at him. "T-that's a self portrait." His voice was louder now but still not much above a whisper.

The man blinked, tilting his head. "Why yes, yes it is." He took a sip of his drink and smirked. "What gave it away?"

Ryou felt nervous under the undivided attention and blushed, not sure if he liked to be looked at so intently. "I- It's just, um… I guess I had this feeling…" The man and the painting _felt_ alike, but how could he explain that without looking weird? Not that there was anything in this man that cried for help but…

The smirk got an amused quality. "A feeling?"

"Y-yes, I-" Ryou smiled, unsettled, and flicked his eyes towards the floor to get away from the stare. "I've always been sensitive towards that sort of things…"

"Ah, I see." The eyes turned to look at the painting and Ryou let out a sigh of relief, careful not to be too loud. "Well, I am Mikazuki Bakura as you have guessed, and that's My self portrait." He looked at Ryou again, curious. "Who are you?"

"I'm Bakura Ryou, nice to meet you," Ryou hurried to introduce himself and bowed. The other just nodded, which Ryou found somewhat rude but let it drop.

"Hm, Bakura Ryou…" the artist sampled the name. "Then I insist to call you Ryou because otherwise it would be like talking to myself in third person. And of course, you can call me Bakura if you wish."

Ryou blushed. "But Mr. Mikazuki-"

"Bakura," the other cut him off.

"B-but…" He didn't even call his best friend by his first name! It would be weird and too intimate to call someone he had just met- To be in such friendly terms right way, it would be rude. "I'd rather-"

Bakura leaned closer. "Ba-ku-ra." A smirk played on his face and Ryou swallowed slowly, the reasons why the women were here not lost to him either. There had been a time when he hadn't been comfortable with his attraction to other men but he had grown out of that discomfort.

"A-alright… Bakura." The other seemed pleased, removing himself from Ryou's space, about which he was thankful for. Ryou thought that maybe the mention about Bakura's weirdness wasn't just to keep the man's ego safe. There was a strange feeling he couldn't place, one that made his heart race and blood turn cold at the same time, but he pushed it aside for now, perhaps to regret doing that later. Ryou let himself relax but it was short lived when Bakura opened his mouth again, shattering the somewhat good image Ryou had of him.

"Would you like to come back to My atelier and let Me do you?"

It took Ryou a short while to understand what had been said but when his brain had processed it, a yell came out before he could even realize it. "Wha- Excuse me?!" Gone was his timid voice; the whole room heard that loud and clear, heads turning to stare. "Just what's that supposed to mean?"

Bakura looked at him, clam as ever, a slow grin forming. "What do you think?"

Ryou gapped, trying to form words that refused to come. "Wha- I would never- You-" Just who the hell did this man think he was?

The other chuckled at his reaction, fueling Ryou's anger that had formed out of his initial shock. "Oh, stop overreacting. I wasn't really expecting you to agree."

"Don't kid about things like that!" Ryou shouted, for once not caring that people stared at him.

Bakura's eyes flashed and a certain amount of mischief crept into his grin. "I wasn't kidding."

Ryou's face grew red out of embarrassment and anger, fingers clenching and unclenching. "Well, that was most inappropriate, _Mr. Mikazuki_." He hadn't felt this angry and showed it in a long time. The anger was refreshing. "You might be talented in your area but you obviously have no manners."

While Ryou huffed and puffed, Bakura was like the brick house that refused to be blown in, never loosing the amused expression. "You think I'm talented?"

"What?" Confusion took over anger for a second. "Yes, but…" Ryou didn't know how to react anymore, and when Bakura placed his hand on the back of his neck and began leading him away, he didn't protest.

"If you liked that one, there's something else you must see."

"Oh…" Ryou registered the touch and glared some. "Would you let go of me?" The hold wasn't painful but tight enough to keep him there if Bakura wanted him to.

"No."

Ryou decided against any further yelling or glaring, taking a deep breath. Once he was almost calm again, he noticed over a half of the people there staring at them. The expressions varied from disbelief to envy as his gaze pounced from one side of the room to the other.

"Um, Mr. Mika- uh, Bakura, people are staring…"

Bakura glanced around, grinning at their audience, raising his glass. "Ladies. Privacy, please." Some blushed or giggled, one by one turning to look somewhere else. Light caught on a strange ring on Bakura's right hand's middle finger during the hand movement. The short glance Ryou got of it before Bakura moved his hand again showed small points hanging on it, which seemed like a weird feature for a ring.

"You have an interesting ring," Ryou commented.

"It's a family heirloom of sorts." No further information was given and they stopped in front of a painting of a woman on whose arms lay a dead child, a gapping hole in his skull. Ryou studied the image, not sure if he liked it or if it had anything to do with the first painting.

"Are… are all your paintings like this?" Ryou asked, not turning away from the picture yet. It was disturbing yet interesting, and he was sure there was something he was supposed to realize. "So dark, I mean."

"Pretty much," Bakura told. "One needs an outlet, right?"

Ryou glanced at the other and saw a small smirk twisting the corner of his mouth upwards, like urging him to ask more questions. Ryou did wonder what he meant but just smiled and nodded. "I suppose."

"Mikazuki, I thought you were supposed to show me around and not hit on some boy," a cold voice called and Bakura's eyes lit up. He let go of Ryou, turning to his guest.

"Seto you're late," Bakura scolded but had this playful gleam n his eyes. Ryou wondered if they were friends as he listened them banter back and forth before something clicked in his brain.

"Seto… Kaiba Seto?"

A set of eyes turned to him. Maybe he shouldn't have said that out loud.

"Yes." After the short answer the man turned back to Bakura. Ryou figured he wasn't important enough to hold the attention of the Kaiba Seto for long so he decided to get going, seeing this as a perfect excuse to leave without rudely walking out on anyone.

"Um, I'll just leave you two to talk…"

Bakura seemed to notice him again. "No, Ryou don't go yet." He protested but Ryou had already backed away and only gave a small smile.

"I really have to be going, it's late."

"You haven't seen all My work yet."

Ryou frowned, backing away faster, his plan of making a polite exit foiled. "Seriously, I'm going." Why was this guy so persistent? He turned and almost ran out, convinced that he would never have to see Bakura again. Some part of him wanted to, even if just to understand the deal with the painting, but he pushed it away, a yawn escaping him now when he could relax. Sleep would be great.

What did a woman with a dead baby and a moon have in common though? Ryou hit his forehead, attempting the abuse all thoughts about anything even distantly related to Mikazuki Bakura out of his head. It didn't work as well as he would have liked.

* * *

Bakura clued his stare on Ryou's retreating form until he could no longer see it and glanced at his self portrait, a smirk forming and a bit of a scheming glint danced in his eyes colored red by the fluorescent lights. Of course, there was no connection between Shattered Crescent and Dark Necrophilia. Had his new company not spoken up, Bakura would have forgotten his presence all together.

"Leave the poor boy alone, Mikazuki. He probably doesn't need you to fuck up his life."

Bakura looked up at Kaiba, who had fixed his eyes on him, and grinned. "I'm not going to fuck up anything, just sort of… spice it up." Though it was unlikely he would ever meet this Bakura Ryou again. He had failed to ask for the phone number and home address of this particular piece of eye-candy.

Kaiba raised a brow. "I stand behind my previous words seeing how your idea of 'spicing things up' is warped at best," he deadpanned. "But I'm not here to chit-chat about your," a meaningful pause, "_love life_."

Bakura chuckled, not pleased with the change of subject but letting it pass; he could always ponder about this in his free time. "Well, things are going smoothly as you can see even though some of the helpers made Me want to scream bloody murder." He snickered at his choice of words but Kaiba didn't react to it, having gotten used to Bakura laughing at random intervals for no apparent reason.

"Which you of course did."

The grin morphed into an unpleasant smile. "Naturally."

* * *

Review? Con-Crit? Flame? Mindlessly worship authoress?


	4. finding devotion

**A/N: **Behold more people with generic Japanese names getting killed! Seriously, I just realized that all the dying-OC names are horrible, but then again, I try not to give them names because they will, well, _die_ so… Also, a brief moment to acknowledge _tsukimeushi_ from _dA_ who drew _Bakura's ring_ before I could write it, all credit to her then… Hey, do you think this needs warnings to the beginning? I mean, some people might get disturbed by this sort of things xD Oh and I think FFnet ate some of the quotation marks from the last chapter 0.o Well, anyway, on with the madness!

* * *

**Shattered Crescent**

Part Four

Bakura laid on the couch, his legs hanging over the other armrest, an arm over his eyes and the other hanging off the couch, a remote scrapping the floor. The TV was on and the news glared from it to the otherwise dark room. After working so hard on the exhibition, Bakura felt like he deserved some time to laze around and do nothing, which was what he had been doing for the past day or two. As much bliss as doing nothing except sleeping and eating were, it was getting boring and his mood had quickly reached a low point. He needed something to do, other than watching the news to hear how his little nocturnal escapades confused and frightened the general public. It was entertaining to hear that no one had a clue of his identity or motives, and how the police was trying to cover their incompetence, but even that got boring after a while, no matter how big of an ego booster it was. Bakura snorted; as if his ego needed boosting.

"_Ah_ _well… we don't have any big leads yet but right now we're focusing on creating a profile for the killer._" Bakura wasn't really concentrating on what the man on the TV was saying but then his own name caught his attention. "_Oh, Bakura, there you are. Come here for a minute_."

Bakura turned his head towards the box, cracking an eye open and sitting up upon seeing a familiar face. It took a moment for him to recall how he knew the face but it all came back to him quickly, the name following not far behind. "Bakura Ryou…"

The young man was half dragged in front of the cameras and he looked like he would much rather be anywhere else. He glanced around as if looking for a way out, but finding none, succumbed to his cruel fate.

Bakura smirked, almost finding the awkward actions endearing but surprise covered the feeling. He had had no idea Ryou was a cop; he didn't look it. Bakura leaned his elbows on his knees and listened the young man speak, voice shaking a bit despite how he tried to cover it.

"…_I-I mean, it's a bit sketchy but I- um, the Domino City Police has some idea what we're dealing with here,_" Ryou explained, giving the reporter a self-conscious smile, not quite facing the camera.

"_Is there something you can tell us about the killer now?_" the reporter asked and Bakura leaned farther forward, interested in hearing the answer, too. Did this Ryou know what he was doing? A small grin made its way to his lips; he doubted it but that would be the first.

Ryou fidgeted, glancing behind him with something resembling a scowl aimed at the person who forced him into this situation, before speaking clearly this time, turning his face towards the camera. "_Well… I- We would advice the media not to report about this so much as it seems that this person enjoys the attention, and especially hearing how the police has no clue about how to catch him or even challenge him possibly edges the person on. Thank you._" Ryou turned around to push his way out of the crowd and disappeared from view.

Bakura's eyes had widened in surprise, the rest of the news report falling on deaf ears. He noticed his hands shaking and clasped them together to steady them. An amused chuckle penetrated the darkness and he could feel his heart racing in reaction to the challenge, the exhilaration surging through his body making him shiver. A grin formed and he ran the tip of his tongue over his teeth, skimming a pronounced canine.

"Bring it on, _Bakura Ryou_…" he purred to the dark room, all traces of his boredom gone.

* * *

Malik was not a happy camper. The fact that he wasn't camping but staying in a hotel had nothing to do with it. He wasn't sure if he should even be this angry but he guessed the thought-numbing headache had something to do with it, along with the knowledge that the incident had been his own fault. Even after a few days he still got angry whenever it crossed his mind. No one outside his immediate family was supposed to know!

_A few hours had passed since the dreadful moment he had met Bakura, and Malik was sitting on a barstool, leaning against the wooden surface in front of him, listening a conversation Bakura was having with the bartender. Malik's face wore an increasingly annoyed frown, having long ago stopped hoping the intruding man would leave and now just wished he would shut up. Malik had thought he could use Bakura as he seemed to know most of these people but so far Malik had just been introduced to the bartender who had nodded at him before starting a conversation about something useless and unimportant. The current topic seemed to be women, with loads of men thrown into the mix._

"_You don't say..? But seriously, Bakura, you should find someone a bit steadier to-"_

"_Don't even start," Bakura interrupted the older man. "I'm beginning to think it's impossible to find a person who has something interesting in their head as well as in their pants," he grinned and Malik rolled his eyes but that went unnoticed. "Or it's very difficult at least."_

_The bartender smiled a bit but shook his head. "Difficult indeed… Too high standards if you ask me, and what's with the 'I want someone who's my equal' talk? I thought you'd want someone to push around and who would worship your greatness." _

"_If I wanted someone who fell on their knees at My command, I'd be married to dozens of people already," Bakura shot back. _

_Malik took a sip of his drink he had almost forgotten he had in all his boredom. He wondered if he should leave to either go talk to someone else or to come back at a later time when Bakura wasn't here but it sounded like the two males were closing their conversation. Finally! Maybe now they could talk about something that interested him._

_He took another gulp while waiting and felt warm for the first time since arriving to this country, most likely because of the alcohol, and decided to take off the thicker shirt. He didn't realize it but the hem of his other shirt lifted up in the process, only noticing something off when a finger traced one of his markings. A surge of rage took over, an unpleasant haze clouding his vision, and he turned to punch the intruder, aiming for his face but hitting his shoulder. Bakura almost fell off his stool and he would have had he not moved his head out of the way. _

_Malik made sure his shirt was back in order before directing his hateful glare at Bakura who looked surprised for a second but it soon faded into something unnerving and knowing. He ignored any expression the other might have and a crossover between a yell and a shriek erupted from his throat. "Do not touch me!"_

"_Those aren't ordinary tattoos, are they?"_

_The question might have as well been a physical attack as Malik stumbled down from his stool, eyes telling of shock and resentment. "That's none of your goddamn business! They might be! The fuck do you know!"_

_Bakura rubbed his shoulder, frowning at Malik who was backing away. "I recognize knife marks when I see them." _

_Malik's eyes were blurry and his face twisted in anger but he wasn't stupid enough to start anything here; he just needed to get out. _

* * *

Ryou jumped at the sound of his cell phone ringing. He had been sitting on his bed reading late into the night when sleep had eluded him once more. The enchanted world of fantasy and suspense was now broken and he had been brought to reality by the loud modern-day device.

He reached for the cell on his nightstand, answering it in his normal polite manner. The unnerved voice of one of his coworkers made it to his ears, making him frown in concern.

"_Bakura? Come to 7__th__ Noname Lane, the third floor, apartment twelve. You better see this one yourself. We think the same person is responsible and, well… just come and take a look._" The nervousness of the other unsettled Ryou who agreed to come as soon as he could. Noname Lane wasn't far from where he lived, a good thing considering how dangerous it could be to go out alone at night. He wasn't completely helpless but he couldn't hold his own against more than one person and the little he knew about self defense was taught to him by Honda.

Ryou grabbed everything he needed and made sure to lock his door before walking in a quick pace towards his destination, keeping an eye out for potential threats. It didn't take him long to arrive to the correct location and the police cars and curious onlookers confirmed that he was in the right place.

The unsettling feeling from earlier had turned into a sick ache in his stomach by the time Ryou reached the third floor and found the apartment. The one who had called him was there to greet him and guide him in. It occurred to him that he had never actually been on a murder scene before and the tight knot in his gut got even tighter.

"I hope you have a strong stomach because this isn't pretty," the officer warned him just before they stepped into the room most of the activity seemed to revolve around. Ryou didn't feel like his stomach was strong right now but decided that it would be. He was a professional and professionals didn't hurl on crime scenes.

Once the sight greeted him, it took him a while to take it all in and for him mind to comprehend it. When he grasped what was in front of him, his hand flew to his mouth and he took a few steps back, praying that he could tear his eyes off the sight.

"Oh god…"

On the floor lay a body, back facing upwards and shirt torn open to reveal a bloody back. It wasn't all the blood around the body that made Ryou have such a strong reaction but the reason _why_ all the blood was there made him feel sick, made him want to scream and vomit at the same time if only physically possible.

There, visible despite the blood flown, carved with deep and accurate knife cuts, was his own name, written along the spine with the last stroke of "Ryou" almost disappearing under the waistline of the victim's pants. Never before had he hated his name but now…

"Hey, you ok?" A hand landed on his shoulder, making him glance at the man standing behind him. Ryou nodded while trying to steady his breathing and calm down at least a little. Professional, he was a professional.

"Yes, thank you, just a bit… shocked." He moved out of the hand's reach, not looking at the other, still attempting to collect himself. "Are… are the wounds post mortal?" He hoped they were so the victim didn't have to suffer so much; this was horrible enough as it was.

"That hasn't been determined yet."

Ryou nodded again, his face not giving away any emotion as he stepped closer, mindful not to touch the pool of blood and trying not to be in anyone's way, crouching down to take a closer look. He didn't have a problem with blood and had seen a fair share of dead people during his life but the writing still glared at him, accusing him. Was it his fault that this person had died? Did he die just so the murderer could leave Ryou a message or would he have died anyway?

Ryou shook his head to banish the thoughts; now was not the time to blame himself. This was a challenge, a reply to his foolish comment on the news. He hadn't thought it would get such a strong reaction but the fact only proved his statement to be right. He had struck a nerve no one had managed to do so far, turning this from a battle between the Domino City Police and the murderer, to a battle between the murder and him, Bakura Ryou. Also, if he wasn't over analyzing like he sometimes did, there was another message: blurt more information about me to the public and more people will die.

"Bakura? Hey, Bakura."

Ryou almost snapped out of his thoughts, looking up at his coworker, mind somewhere between his thought world and reality.

"You need to get out of the way and let these people do their jobs. Let's go."

Ryou got up, his legs feeling a bit feeble, and followed, but his brows knitted together. What about his job? Didn't he need to do it? He thought his work was rather important but the people looking for more solid leads got more credit than he did. After all, he was _only_ trying to figure out how the criminal mind worked.

A yell came from the door, followed by a man struggling against an officer who tried to keep him away. Ryou could guess how this would end, having dealt with victims' relatives and friends before. Somehow, that job always seemed to fall on him…

"Takuto!" the man yelled before reaching the room and ceasing all movement. More people were rushing to take him away and Ryou turned his eyes elsewhere, unable to look at the scene.

"Takuto… Who _the fuck_ is Bakura Ryou?!"

Ryou flinched at the enraged yell but turned to look at the one yelling, his face empty, past mournful. "I am," he told quietly but somehow it was heard by what seemed to be all the people in the apartment.

The man's eyes narrowed. "You? Are you responsible?"

Ryou wanted to tell that he wasn't but the truth was that he was at fault here, indirectly but at fault all the same. "I-I…"

Ryou's stuttering seemed to provoke the other as pure hate twisted his features into something inhuman. "I'm going to kill you!" He tried to charge but was held down by the people who had hurried to help. Ryou backed away, eyes wide and horrified, just shaking his head at the obscenities the one held down yelled at him. A pair of hands grasped his shoulders and began taking him away.

"Come, I'll take you home."

Ryou let himself be escorted out, the sick feeling from earlier coming back. As soon as they got out of the building, Ryou bent over and threw up next to the sidewalk, faintly feeling the other man hold his hair up and pat his back. He felt awful and knew there would be no peaceful sleep tonight.

* * *

"You could've told me, I would've come over," Hiroto told, angry at his friend for not letting him in on things unless specifically asked. Apparently, Bakura had been shocked by a body that had his name carved on it but he hadn't told Hiroto about it, instead choosing to stay cooped up in his apartment, alone, writing some report about the killer, and so, mulling over everything by himself. Hiroto knew Ryou was prone to do things like that because of some stupid belief that he could, and should, deal with things on his own, but he could include Hiroto some more, ask for help when he evidently needed it.

Bakura sighed, further messing his hair by burying a hand in it, eyes remaining on the papers covering his living room coffee table. He continued to write something down with hurried and messy handwriting, like trying to write as fast as he thought. "Sorry…" The words were spoken so softly Hiroto almost missed them. "I didn't want to bother you. I'm fine though."

Hiroto wanted to rip his hair off and feed it to Bakura for being such a damned liar. "No, you're not 'fine'. You're never 'fine' when you say you are, I know that much."

Bakura kept writing. "You should be at work."

The other frowned, close to yelling at his friend for acting like he did. "It's my day off; I was at work on Saturday. Come on, let's do something fun."

"I have to work, maybe later."

Hiroto sighed, heavy and long, voicing his suspicions, "I bet you worked through the weekend, too."

Bakura still didn't raise his eyes to meet Hiroto's. "Only through Sunday."

"Ryou!" The yell came before he could react, frustrated by the other's behavior. The writing stopped and Bakura frowned at his papers, his voice taking a tone Hiroto didn't recognize.

"_He_ called me by my first name, too…"

Confusion took over as Hiroto stopped to wonder if he should know this "_he_" Bakura was referring to. "Who?" He didn't know anyone who called Bakura by his given name except for his missing father. Bakura's voice cut his chain of thought short though.

"Mikazuki Bakura."

Hiroto's thoughtful frown increased, feeling just a bit dumb when repeating his question: "Who?"

Bakura looked at his direction, finally meeting his eyes. "The art exhibition I went to, remember? Bakura's the artist." A funny sort of smile made Bakura's face look somehow off when coupled with something disturbing in his eyes. "A strange character…" Despite how Hiroto had wished that his friend would look at him, now when he looked away and to his hands, Hiroto was grateful.

"Oh… Well…" He wasn't sure what to say. Bakura hardly ever mentioned anyone he had randomly met, and they, Bakura and this artist guy, must have talked and gotten to know each other if they were on first name basis, which was strange considering how they had _just met_ and because Bakura hadn't tried to make more _real_ friends in ages. Or perhaps "friends" wasn't what he had made, a thought that disturbed Hiroto for reasons that had nothing to do with how this Mikazuki Bakura was also a man.

"Really arrogant, confident, to the point of being _annoying_, actually," Bakura continued and laughed but it was hollow and short. "Anyway, enough about him." He turned to Hiroto again. "I can't stop blaming myself of the latest murder. That's what you came to talk about, wasn't it?"

The sudden change of subject threw Hiroto off for a second but he was more shocked about the admission. "But… why?" He sat on the couch next to Bakura, not too close but close enough to peer under the white bangs incase his friend would try to hide behind them again. "There's nothing you could've done to stop it."

Bakura smiled. "I could have kept my mouth shut. I shouldn't have challenged him like that, by saying what I did in public." He glanced at the papers. "It did give me a lot to think about though… but I think I'll need to rewrite some parts still before-" Bakura paused and the look he gave Hiroto was bordering to desperation. "Do you think it was a death threat?"

Hiroto had to blink, having difficulty with keeping up with the other's train of thought. "Are you talking about the latest victim or..?"

"Yes, yes, of course I am," Bakura told and nodded in time with his words, speaking fast. "What else? Listen; at first I thought it was a different kind of reply to my announcement but then it occurred to me that what if the body represented me? I don't want to die but I guess that would be ok if-"

"Ryou!" Hiroto grabbed the other's shoulders and shook. "You stop that right now." Bakura just stared at him but at least he was quiet now. It hurt to see his friend like this when Hiroto had hoped it would never happen again. "The first thing that came to your mind was probably right; it always is; now you're just thinking too much again. Ok?" Bakura nodded. "And no talking about dying either," he added, hoping that he sounded firm enough to force the other out of this state.

"A-alright… I'm sorry, thank you, I'm ok now." Bakura gave a small smile, removing Hiroto's hands from his shoulders and turning to search for his pen.

The reason for the strange behavior was clear as day to Hiroto who had seen it occur before. "You haven't been sleeping, have you?"

The pen had rolled under the table so Bakura had dropped on his knees on the floor and was reaching out for it. "Not since… uh… Monday, I think." He emerged from under the table, triumphant and with the pen. "Why? Does it show?" The grin that followed got no response.

"It does," Hiroto spoke. "I thought you promised to at least try and get some sleep, or was that just so you could get rid of Dr. what's-his-face?"

The grin faded as fast as it had appeared, the one it had belonged to remaining seated on the floor, finding the pen more interesting than Hiroto's accusing face. "No, I… I've been trying to but it hasn't worked too well…" he muttered to the pen, hair falling on his face. "The nightmares couldn't be much worse."

Hiroto shook his head, getting up. "You can't go on like this." He would have suggested quitting the job but he knew how Bakura would react to that and he was in no mood for an argument. "Let's go."

Bakura's head jerked up and he clutched his pen tighter. "Where are we going?"

"Away from here, come on. I won't let you stay cooped up like this; it's driving you nuts." When the other looked ready to protest, Hiroto stopped him before he could say a word. "No. You are coming with me, peacefully and without a fight because resisting an officer will only get you in more trouble."

He was relieved to finally see a smile that wasn't fake or disturbing as Bakura got off the floor. "I have no choice then. Just let me get changed first."

"Make it quick."

Bakura laughed and the atmosphere got much lighter and a gentle smile of his own tugged Hiroto's lips upwards.

* * *

You know what I would like you to do…


	5. so beautiful it hurts

**A/N: **A long a/n ahead, made even longer by this warning! I can't believe this is the fifth chapter at last… RL has been really busy and stressful so I haven't been having much time to write fanfiction and that kept me up at night because the writer in me wanted to write so badly but the more reasonable part told me to sleep (hah, I don't sleep much in the spring anyway). I came up with all sort of weird shit that I might write down/draw and post during that time though :) But anyways, about this chapter and this fic: I'm not sure if I'm taking too many liberties with Bakura's portrayal (or anyone's for that matter) but I hope you won't mind (xD), and I'm not sure about the flow… Oh and thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I can't believe the amount of response this is getting -hearts you all- _Also_, I finally got to see Sweeney Todd (the movie horror-musical thing). How is that relevant? The movie has throat-slitting and meat-grinding in it. Yes. I was a bit irritated by this coincidence but got over it because the movie is awesome. I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

* * *

**Shattered Crescent**

Part Five

Ryou was thankful Honda had dragged him out; he wouldn't get his work done but at least he had someone who cared. He didn't really like being mothered by his friend, though…

"You haven't eaten anything, have you?" Honda accused as Ryou shoved the cooking into his mouth but now paused to chew and to give an answer, a guilty yet a bit annoyed blush tainting the bridge of his nose.

"I did have breakfast…" Ryou told, not needing to glance up from his food to know what sort of an expression the other wore. "I was busy and forgot, alright?" Food was second priority to something as important as helping to catch a person who murdered other people; _Ryou_ was second priority to a thing like that.

Honda sighed, not eating anything himself because he had had a proper meal already, and having emphasized "proper meal" when explaining his choice to Ryou earlier. "Bakura, seriously… You have to put yourself first sometimes, you know."

"I know." Ryou hated the tone Honda used when he reminded him about that. Ryou did know but he rarely felt the need to follow that particular advice. He glanced up at Honda's frowning face, also furrowing his browns a little. "You keep telling me that, how could I forget?" His voice betrayed his irritation but only because he felt it safe to express, and Honda decided to change the topic.

"That reporter was really annoying, wasn't he? I mean, even you looked ready to punch his lights out," Honda grinned and Ryou decided to answer it with a smile of his own.

"Yes… that was rather infuriating. I wonder what he is going to do with the information…" They were referring to a reporter who had caught them on their way here and had asked all sorts of questions about the latest murder, or "kill" like the public called it. "A kill" wasn't planned, and Ryou guessed no one wanted to think of the ordeal as something planned by an actual person who lived among them. It was easier to deny the fact and think of it as something done by an animal, a thing with no wit or human emotions. Ryou resented that way of thinking and made sure to always use the real name: a murder, planned and purposeful.

Honda snorted, reminding Ryou that he was in the middle of a conversation. "Twist it for his own purposes, of course. Did you see what newspaper he was working for? '_Evening Domino_' can hardly even be _called_ a newspaper…"

Ryou nodded, a little worried about what the paper was going to print. "I hope it won't be anything bad."

"I doubt you'll be that lucky but, hey, we can hope," Honda told and added, "Eat up before your food gets cold." Ryou realized that he had stopped eating and restarted shoveling the food past his lips, the worry not enough the take away his hunger.

* * *

"…and I don't think even he knows whether he'll co-operate or not," Kaiba Mokuba told through the phone while Seto typed, not needing to pause in order to concentrate on the call.

"I trust you to make sure he does." Seto glanced at his watch; he had to be going in two and a half minutes.

"Sure thing, big brother," was the last thing heard through the line before both brothers hung up; they could be pleasant and brotherly when they had more time. Finishing his writing and straightening his tie just on time, Seto walked out of his office. Usually, he didn't pay much attention to his secretary as long as she did her job but now, as he passed her desk, a large picture of what seemed to be a dead body with writing on it caught his eye. Seto went and pulled the issue of '_Evening Domino_' out of his secretary's grasp, skimming through the article.

"I can't believe you read this trash," he commented, sliding the paper into his briefcase and continuing on his way, just walking with longer strides so he wouldn't be late. Interesting how the worst newspaper in Domino was the only one who had reported that incident. The murders didn't bother him as long as they wouldn't interfere with his business but he needed to know what was going on in Domino; that was where the KaibaCorp headquarters were after all.

* * *

Knowing someone like Kaiba sure had its advantages. Bakura grinned at his copy of _the_ newscast, moving a newspaper, if it could be called that, aside to read later and skimmed through a bunch of documents thrown on his small kitchen table.

It appeared that Bakura Ryou had taken a whole lot of criminal psychology courses at school, had good grades and had happened to stumble upon an investigation, helped to solve it and had been instantly hired by The Domino City Police but had also been offered a job in Tokyo. Bakura didn't know why Ryou wasn't in Tokyo but figured it had to be because of some personal reason.

Much to Bakura's amusement, he had known most of the people Ryou had helped to put away, but then again, he knew most people in Domino, the ones that mattered, so no surprise there. Bakura sipped his coffee and pulled over the newspaper, the term used loosely, the page that interested him already open. A picture of his latest art work took one fourth of the page and had a smaller picture of Ryou attached to it. A gentle hint of a smile curled the picture-Ryou's lips upwards, and Bakura guessed it was an older picture, stolen from somewhere just like the one taken of his art. He reminded himself to cut them out later but now he stared at the headline for a bit before reading on.

The article told briefly about what the police thought about the event and how they refused to comment on anything further. The reporter mentioned the newscast and drew feeble a connection between it and the incident. It appeared that the press had spent a quite long time harassing Ryou to get a comment because he had refused to be interviewed.

"_It seems that this has turned a bit more personal," says Bakura Ryou as his only comment on the incident. This quiet young man who has captured the attention of the killer seems to be the only one knowing anything about the resent, horrible events taking place in our city. By refusing to comment he is keeping the whole city on its toes- _

Bakura snorted; this paper spouted such trash. Like Ryou was the reason why the city was terrified and the police were incompetent. He wasn't interested in what the media or the general public thought about this, only what Ryou thought mattered. Those thoughts just were the ones not printed.

The papers were left on the table as Bakura grabbed the copy of the newscast and went to watch it. He popped it in and sat on the floor, ignoring the couch in favor of Ryou. He paid attention on how Ryou didn't take credit for the things he had figured out even though it was obvious that it wasn't "Domino City Police" who should have the praise. During watching it the second time, he paused on the bit where Ryou was just about to start his little announcement and was looking all determined.

A corner of Bakura's lips curled up but not to smirk as he watched the stopped image; Bakura Ryou truly had the most beautiful eyes. They looked at the world like there was something only they could see, had brown depths to drown in and light covered sorrow, knowing things no being so young should have to know.

Before he noticed it, Bakura had traced one of the eyes with his finger, fascinated by the shape, while kneeling in front of his TV. Bakura snorted at his own actions but didn't stop acting like the smitten fool he had thought he would never become.

* * *

"Excuse me. Can you read this to me, please?" Malik asked from the woman sitting in the table next to his. The woman looked up from her ice coffee and Malik smiled at her, a smile that was kind on the outside but held no meaning. "I can't read it all so…" he told, pointing at an article. A large picture that awoke unpleasant memories was coupled by a smaller photo, the person in it reminding him of someone he had to be familiar with.

The one looking like every other woman he had seen in this country placed down her cup and answered the smile. "Of course I can. Which parts do you need help with?"

The title, '_The Terror of Domino_', told Malik that the article was not to be taken seriously, at least not when it came to details and police statements. The name Bakura Ryou jumped out and nearly made him loose his polite exterior. _Bakura_ Ryou? The person in the picture didn't look like the Bakura he had met, once he got past the hair color, but it was an odd coincidence.

"_There's no such thing as coincidence, little brother." _

The odd _coincidence_ was even stranger when coupled with what Bakura had discovered that one night and with the carving found on the victim's back. The Bakura mentioned in the article was some sort of an investigator though…

"What does the carving say?" Malik asked, interrupting the one still reading the piece of writing and not even caring.

"Um, it says Bakura Ryou."

He jumped up from his seat, yanking the paper back, and walked out of the café but not without remembering to yell a quick 'Thank you' to the confused woman. Oh, this was great, almost too good to be true. This was a potential chance to get, _blackmail_, much needed information out of that infuriating man who, for some weird reason, seemed to know everybody Malik needed information about. His sister's words echoed in his mind again but he ignored them. The chance of getting revenge on the person who had ruined his childhood was at hand at last. His father had been rather sane if not nice before he had been forced out of business and driven over the edge.

Malik stormed past a police station to get to the hotel a few streets down, his mind on what he should do to pull this off right, how to operate so all _this_ would end to the death of the CEO of KaibaCorp.

* * *

A frown shadowed Ryou's face as he stared at the offending article. _"It seems that this has turned a bit more personal," _the paper read. That wasn't what he had said! The connotation was completely changed and… and it had been used against him! To direct his frustration somewhere, Ryou wrote offending things around the reporter's name, and decided that he needed to cook something. When he got to the kitchen, however, and opened the fridge to see what he had, he discovered that the fridge contained… a carton of two days old milk and a carrot?

He had forgotten to go grocery shopping. "Oh… bummer."

Rain hit against the window and the weather didn't look inviting. There had been a small store near his apartment building but it had been forced to move when new buildings had been built; fancy, all window apartment buildings at that. Now the nearest store was within a longer walking distance and, the weather being what it was, Ryou didn't want to walk there. He had to, though, if he wanted something to eat.

Ryou grabbed his umbrella and wallet, discovering that his rubber boots had holes in them and just put on sneakers instead. He walked out before he could change his mind and was passing the new buildings before he knew it, the wind blowing harder in between them. He was wondering what sort of people lived there when the wind caught on his umbrella, pulling it away from his grip. Despite how he held onto it, the umbrella flew away; leaving him defenseless against the pouring rain and within seconds he was soaked from head to toe. Ryou watched the umbrella fly away and disappear into the gray rain. He stood there, shivering, for a second longer before deciding to head to the store anyway like his stomach told him to and walked straight into someone in the process.

Ryou looked up, ready to apologize, and was met with a familiar set of features that aroused conflicting emotions.

"Well if it isn't Ryou from My art exhibit, what a strange yet wonderful coincidence."

Ryou's brows furrowed ever so slightly, but still, he was flattered that the other male remembered him. "Bakura… I agree on the strange part at least." It _was _pretty weird for them to run into each other like this… Ryou wasn't in the state of mind or in the state of clothing that he could start a conversation but he couldn't help but ask, "What are you doing here in this weather?"

Bakura raised a brow, smirking. "At least I'm dressed for the occasion." He eyed Ryou's soaked sweatshirt and jeans, wearing a see-through rain coat to seal his chosen attire and hair from the rain. "I was just about to go and find my lost inspiration but it appears I've already found it. Too bad it's soaked and not that happy to be found."

Bakura's eyes appeared dark brown in the gray rain, not the red shade they had been in the fluorescent light, and scanned the other, making Ryou horribly self-conscious and aware how the rain made his clothes more formfitting than he would have liked. Being referred to as an it didn't help his mood any, either.

Ryou flashed a small smile that stayed far away from his eyes. "I really can't stay and chat," he told and started walking past the other. A hand was placed in his path.

"Wait," Bakura spoke and Ryou looked at him, wary. "I live here." He gestured to the building they were standing next to, earning a disbelieving blink from Ryou. "I could get you something dry to wear." Make that two blinks.

"I…" Ryou wasn't sure what to say, glancing around him and then back to Bakura. He stopped to stare for a brief moment; the look he got wasn't the same amused and curios one Bakura had given him in the exhibition, it was more… what exactly? "I don't think that's such a great idea."

"You're right, it's not just a _great_ idea, it's _My_ idea," Bakura smirked and Ryou found his lip curling up, too, despite his effort to keep frowning. Encouraged by Ryou's reaction, Bakura pushed on, "We could talk about art some more."

Ryou remembered something then that had kept bothering him after the exhibition and just couldn't help his curiosity, almost blurting out his question before even realizing it. "The crescent moon and the woman with the dead baby, what..?" He shut his mouth, feeling embarrassed, but Bakura's previous smirk only got wider.

"Yes… I think we should continue the discussion somewhere you won't freeze, though." He spun towards the entrance and in the same fluid motion, somehow managed to place his hand on the back of Ryou's neck again, brushing the wet hair away. Ryou jumped at the sudden contact, the other's fingers warm against his cold skin. He wasn't sure if he liked it so he took a few faster steps as soon as they entered the building. Why had he even waited that long to take those steps was beyond him…

The hall looked modern with metallic surfaces and glass, and somehow, it all felt so cold and distant, not at all like the warm atmosphere in Ryou's apartment building. He was distracted from his surroundings by a movement in the corner of his eye. The transparent hood was removed, the hair shook loose, the flying strands reflecting on the surfaces of the hall and a slender-fingered hand ran through the white mass, the strange ring catching the flickering hallway light. Ryou reflected from the metallic interior, too, but he looked like a soaked dog, so much unlike the man who now noticed him staring and raised an eyebrow. What was it with all the eyebrow-raising?

"You should close your mouth before I take advantage of it, you know," Bakura told, tone casual, snapping Ryou out of his trance. The young man followed the advice but added his own twist by frowning, trying not to blush or stammer but not quite pulling it off.

"I-I was just… I wasn't…" The frown increased and Ryou looked away, annoyed by his own poor verbalization. "I wasn't even gapping…" Ryou finished his lame reply, not coming up with anything good or intelligent. Had he been looking, he would have seen the amused smile that changed into a cocky smirk almost as soon as it appeared.

"Sure you weren't…"

The elevator's 'gling'-noise saved Ryou from further ventures into the topic. The trip up was silent, Ryou making sure not to look at the other, finding something interesting on the wall. Before he knew it, the elevator had reached the top floor and a wooden door was in front of him only for a second as it was opened and he was guided in.

"Wait here and try not to drip on My floor too much." Bakura disappeared halfway into a hallway closet, throwing his rain coat and shoes off while he was at it.

"I can't exactly help it," Ryou told, not sure what he should do now. Had this been a good idea after all? He didn't even know this guy and yet there he was, in the home of someone he had only met once. The towel thrown at him served as a distraction from those thoughts as he tried to figure out how to get out from under it. A pair of extra hands dived into the towel and messed his hair, startling him.

"Hey, what-?"

A corner of the white fluffy towel was lifted and Ryou found himself eye to eye with Bakura. The man grinned at him, his eyes twinkling. "Peek-a-boo, I see you…" Bakura told in sing-song, and Ryou just stared for a good while before bursting out laughing at how ridiculous the situation was. While attempting, and failing, to control the sudden show of emotion, he realized that he hadn't laughed this much in what seemed like forever…

* * *

"Really? Why is this brown then?" Ryou asked, pointing at one of Bakura's paintings. Ryou seemed real interested about everything and anything, from all the "strange" imagery to the more technical details. Bakura thought it was sort of cute, and would continue to think so as long as Ryou didn't find out anything _really interesting_. As if that could happen though; Bakura did not slip up.

"It was an experiment gone a bit wrong. I was trying out something new and it didn't work the way I wanted it to," he explained, every word the truth, just lacking in detail… Ryou wasn't even looking at him at the moment, eyes on the experiment-gone-wrong, smiling at it.

"Well, I think it's pretty."

Bakura's eyebrow arched; he didn't like that one himself. Why hadn't he gotten rid of it yet? "You do? How so?"

"It's just…" Ryou frowned, small wrinkles forming on the bridge of his nose; to the same place where his blush would be. "It's more… earthy, somehow." A blush took place and he scratched the back of his neck. "You know… The other ones are so otherworldly and kind of… uh, distant?" He glanced at Bakura, perhaps to see if the other thought his explanation was dumb.

Bakura nodded, a corner of his mouth curling up. "I get what you mean. You think it's the color?" Ryou wasn't bad company once he relaxed a little, otherwise a bit too uptight, needed loosening up. The innocent half smirk turned less innocent.

A brief furrowing of eyebrows brought Bakura back on Earth, reminding that he was in the middle of a conversation.

"Well… It might be but the scenery is a bit more… normal in this one, too." Ryou turned to the painting again before looking around. Bakura wondered if all the brushes, clothes and canvases lying around bothered the other but shrugged the thought off as silly and random. "I mean, you do have forest in some of your other ones as well but… there are also things like ghost in them so…" Ryou smiled, directing some of the smile to Bakura but most of it was for the paintings.

"I take it you like them, though?"

Ryou nodded. "Yes, I do like them… They're all so weird," he finished with an even broader smile and somehow, Bakura took the statement as a compliment. When people said something was weird, they meant it not as a good thing, but as the opposite of 'normal', and 'normal' oftentimes meant 'good'. That didn't seem to be the case with Ryou, though.

"You're a bit strange as well," Bakura nodded his head, the gesture almost a mock bow. It was meant to be good-natured but something in the way Ryou's smile changed, faltered, told that it had struck the wrong string. Bakura tilted his head when it came up from the nod, eyes narrowing in thought. "I meant it no offence."

The smile grew but kept its new quality, "I know." Ryou tried to find something else to look at than Bakura, his eyes landing on the clock, widening and blinking in disbelief. "Oh no… I've been here far too long, I should- You must have something else to do and I was supposed to cook and…" He looked around for his own clothes, movement jerky, seeming to be in a great hurry to leave.

Bakura rolled his eyes, arms folding; the relaxed Ryou was gone and replaced. "Ryou, relax, it's no trouble. I invited you here, didn't I?" Not all of the irritation was kept out of his voice nor did it go unnoticed by the other who, as Bakura had discovered, noticed most things even when he appeared out of it.

"Yes but… Where did you put my..?" Movement halted as Ryou stopped to stare. He seemed so distant, as if not gazing at anything in the room. The eyes were aimed at Bakura, flickering to the rain-beaten window behind him, without _looking_ _at_ Bakura but rather somewhere beyond him. It was an unnerving look and made it difficult to meet Ryou's eyes.

Bakura turned his head, finding something interesting on the wall. He felt disappointed that he had not been able to hold the gaze, and yet, it was amazing how a look had gotten _him_ to turn away. That alone was enough to prove he had something exceptional here, some_one_ he could not let slip through his fingers.

* * *

Feedback is food for the starving soul. …or something 0.o


	6. blood is thicker than water

**A/N: **It is time for… some more Reader/Reviewer Ass-Kissing! I cannot believe this has over one hundred reviews already 0.0 What is wrong with you people!? xD If you boost my ego too much, I won't fit into the same room with it. How will I write if my ego takes all the limited space in front of my computer? I'm not telling you to stop (really!) but maybe some harsh CC would bring me back on Earth xD But all review-worship put aside, here's the latest chapter. It seems that this story is far more complex than I first thought… I also thought that this chapter would be longer but I can't always be right xD

* * *

**Shattered Crescent**

Part Six

Bakura glanced back at Ryou who had been standing near the living room doorway. He wanted to see if the staring had stopped and was surprised to find Ryou right in front of him. Ryou searched something, frowning and piercing Bakura with those _eyes_.

"Ryou..?" Bakura didn't move when Ryou poked him near the shoulder. He realized that this was the first time Ryou had come close on his own, and the first time Ryou had touched him. The ice around his body melted in an instant, replaced by warmth. The other was so close that if Bakura moved his hand a little, he could touch…

Ryou blinked, a blush forming, the glass-eyed look disappearing. "I'm sorry, I- I just thought I saw something but it's… it's really stupid and I should just-" Ryou shut his mouth, lowering his eyes.

Bakura was confused; a feeling he didn't like so he ignored it and focused on being disappointed that Ryou had broken the eye contact. It wasn't _just_ a bad thing though… Now he could concentrate on some _other aspects_ of Ryou's body.

Ryou fidgeted under Bakura's watchful eye and managed to glare at him from under his bangs. A weird thought passed through Bakura's mind: what if Ryou was some kind of a mind reader? But if he was, he would have figured Bakura out so the thought wasn't just weird, it was stupid as well. Ryou was just perspective.

Since Bakura had been caught, he decided to bring up something that would distract them both for the time being, "What did you think you saw?"

"Um, it was nothing…"

"Right. Nothing." An eye roll was in order; Ryou could not lie with words so why did he even bother? "Seriously, what was it." It was a demand in a question's clothing.

Ryou looked up; wearing the same determined expression he had in the newscast. "I thought I saw an angel. Do you think that's stupid?" Even the tone of voice was the same and Bakura realized what the expression and voice-tone combo was for; _challenging_.

He smirked, tilting his head and crossing his arms. "Depends on where you saw it." Bakura didn't think it was stupid to see something others didn't see. Bakura was _an artist_; he saw things in a different light as well. That didn't keep him safe from the surprise, though, when Ryou placed a hand on the left side of his chest.

"Here," was the simple word that made Bakura step back in shock.

"_What?_"

The finger tips were touching the surface of his shirt and Ryou's eyes were locked on his wide ones.

"I'm not sure how… I mean, I thought that, for one second, there was something more than… more than meets the eye." A small, awkward smile wiped away the challenge and the hand fell back on Ryou's side. Bakura wanted to look away again but Ryou didn't let him. That moment, he _hated_ his own inability.

"Don't be ridiculous," Bakura spat but a part of him wanted to believe Ryou. Once, there had been one other who had called him an angel. _Her mischievous little angel_.

"Ridiculous? Why- What are you saying?" When Bakura didn't reply, Ryou's irritation changed into confusion. "You don't think you have good in you." It was a statement. "Or maybe…" he paused but then shook his head, not continuing the thought almost spoken. "Never mind. I don't know you so I shouldn't have… I'm sorry if I upset you." Ryou gave Bakura a smile, a real one this time.

The gesture was too compassioned for Bakura to accept.

"Really? Maybe you should've just kept your mouth shut then, huh?" The speech pattern he had wanted to get rid of leaked through.

Hurt filled Ryou's eyes and his brows knitted, whole body tensing. "It was you who asked, and I already apologized for it. If you can't decide what you want then maybe it's you who should learn when to be quiet."

This was more Bakura's field, something he could handle. "It's not that I don't know what I want." He smirked, tracing a finger down Ryou's cheek. The other glanced at the hand and Bakura knew that it would be swapped away soon. It was nice to notice that Ryou didn't act right away.

"It's more that the… _one_ I want confuses Me."

Ryou moved to get rid of the offending hand but Bakura was faster, taking a hold of the hand that would have disposed of his. Ryou glared but remained where he was. "Don't touch me."

Bakura's smirk grew as he felt Ryou's fast, warm breathing hit his face. He let go, backing away a few steps and raising his hands in surrender. "As you wish, _Bakura Ryou_." The disappointed was there, Bakura was sure of it, but it was short lived.

"I'm leaving now," Ryou informed but there was a small pause before he moved. He didn't bother with the clothes anymore, just headed straight to the nearest exit.

"When do you think we'll run into each other again?" Bakura called after him and Ryou stopped but didn't turn to face the other.

"How about never?"

Bakura pretended to consider it. "Hmm… I'm busy then. How does this Friday sound?"

"Look," Ryou whirled around, a frown on his face. "I have my own life and-"

"And it consists of what?" Bakura interrupted. "Being Domino's scapegoat?" Ryou's eyes widened and Bakura had to smirk at the reaction. "Believe it or not, I read the papers and I'm not an ignorant bastard _all_ the time."

"What-? Why you-" Ryou opened and closed his mouth but nothing sensible came out. "That- that's really low, even from you…"

Bakura had a comeback but seeing how Ryou faced the floor and clenched his fists, he decided to keep it to himself. Instead of opening his big mouth, he waited to hear what the other had to say, and _then_ he could say something stupid again.

"You have no idea what I'm going through and yet you just… assume that…" Ryou choked on his words and glared at Bakura one more time before turning to stomp out of the living room.

On occasions like this, even Bakura had to admit that he was dense when it came to other people and communication. Bakura didn't stay and curse himself, but ran after Ryou. If Ryou left this angry, or hurt, he wouldn't come back again.

"Ryou, wait."

Ryou opened the door and didn't stop when Bakura called for him but came to a sudden halt as Bakura's hand landed on his shoulder. He spun around, perhaps to yell at the other or even to hit him, but froze when Bakura kissed the corner of his mouth.

Bakura had wanted to bring their lips together but thought better of it. He wasn't dense enough to think that he could get away with it now. He wasn't scared of where that rash action would lead but knew that if he wanted to get into Ryou's good graces, this was one time he couldn't screw up. He let the kiss linger a little while longer before facing the paralyzed young man.

"I was an ass. Forgive me?"

Ryou blinked, a hint of red coloring his cheeks. Despite the small blush, he managed to frown, and Bakura made a mental note to figure out how to _not_ make Ryou frown all the time. The man would soon have permanent wrinkles if the frowning didn't stop.

"I might consider it," Ryou told before backing the final step through the door, and closing it on Bakura's face. Bakura grinned and took that as a "Yes, I forgive you."

* * *

For a second the devil had been an angel. The illusion had been gone as soon as it had appeared, and reality had reclaimed its place. Against the gray window, Bakura's presence had been strong and otherworldly just like his paintings. For the briefest moment, Bakura had been untouchable by a mere mortal.

Ryou hadn't been sure, and still wasn't, if he had gotten a cheap peek of heaven or hell. Before he had the chance for the expensive full view, the vision had been long gone. Ryou thought he might be loosing it. He wasn't afraid of some hell but heaven was a different story.

Now, in the safety of his home, back on Earth and in precious reality, Ryou leaned against his closed door, a hand moving to the corner of his mouth without conscious effort. Ryou hadn't been sure if he should have been disappointed or grateful that Bakura hadn't done anything further; he had looked like he wanted to. Perhaps the artist's self-control was better than Ryou had thought…

"But…" Ryou frowned as he realized something. "My clothes." He looked down and saw the garments Bakura had lent him. The other was either lucky or brilliant because now Ryou would have to return them to him, or he would have an excuse to come and search Ryou out. Ryou wanted to think that Bakura was just lucky but the thought that this was what the other had planned all along refused to leave him alone.

* * *

Hiroto sat behind the front desk, going through papers. His mind wasn't in it and all text looked the same to him. Ryou had been acting weird for the past days. It was difficult to say how, but there was something in the way the other looked, spaced out more, that hinted Hiroto that something was up. He would ask about it during lunch and hope it wouldn't have anything to do with work. That would be small miracle but hope was free.

While staring at one paper without seeing it, a female voice brought Hiroto back on Earth. He looked up and the blue eyes he came in contact with made him almost choke on air. He knew the look they had. It was the "I can see right through you"-look Ryou had when things got weird.

"C-can I help you, Miss?" Hiroto managed out.

"I would like to report a missing person," the woman spoke and her voice had certain distance Hiroto wasn't unfamiliar with. It was almost lunch hour but he guessed one missing person couldn't hurt.

"Sure thing. You need to fill this out," Hiroto reached down to search for a form but stopped in mid-movement. "Or should I get the English version?" He would have to go upstairs for it and he wasn't in the mood for climbing up stairs, but he would have to if this woman needed it.

The woman gave him a formal smile. "No need."

"Honda, lunch- Oh…" Bakura appeared from behind a corner and stopped on his tracks. "I'm sorry; I didn't know you were still working…"

Hiroto came back up from his form-hunt in time to see the two encounter. Stares met, Bakura blinked and the woman's eyes widened. Hiroto had no idea what the heck was going on.

"Excuse me, young man." The woman took a few steps towards Bakura who stood frozen. "Have you heard of my little brother, Malik Ishtar, yet?"

Bakura blinked again. "Malik Ishtar?" He frowned in thought. "No… I don't believe I have, Miss."

The woman smiled but it was warmer than the reserved one she had given Hiroto. "When you will, let me know. I need to speak with him and bring him home."

"A-alright…"

"I am Ishizu Ishtar, pleased to meet you."

"Bakura Ryou… and um, likewise."

Hiroto felt out of place. Something was transpiring between the two he could never understand. He glanced at Ryou who looked confused but he got the feeling Bakura knew more about this than he did.

"Your eye is good, Bakura Ryou. I hope you use it well," said Ishizu Ishtar and Hiroto felt like he was spying on something he wasn't supposed see, much less understand. To his relief, Bakura did seem to be getting it either.

"My…eye?"

Miss Ishtar looked sad for a second. "Here's my card." She handed it to Bakura who took it but kept glancing between it and Miss Ishtar, unsure. "It's for contacting me when you hear of my brother," she explained. "And incase you need company of equal standing."

Hiroto raised an eyebrow at the woman's strange choice of words.

Bakura pocked the card, frowning. "Thank you, Miss Ishtar, but I already have company."

Miss Ishtar nodded, the smile coming back. "You have met Mikazuki Bakura." Bakura looked taken aback by the words and Hiroto didn't blame him. How did she know this stuff?

"Y-yes, I have, but what does that-?"

This whole thing was getting too weird for Hiroto to handle so he decided to put an end to it. "Excuse me, Miss Ishtar, but if you want to report that missing person, you have to-"

"Ah, yes, thank you." The woman turned back towards Hiroto. "I won't bother you much longer."

Hiroto exchanged a look with Bakura and they decided not to bring this up at the lunch table.

* * *

"Mikazuki Bakura."

Bakura stopped whirling on the barstool, facing the speaker. Malik stood with his hand resting on his hip, a smirk on his face. Bakura didn't like the feeling he got but smirked right back.

"You know, not many address Me as that around here, and I don't recall telling you My full name, Malik See-if-I-care."

Malik laughed. "Just like you didn't write your own name on the back of poor…" He pulled out an issue of '_Evening Domino_'. "…Nouki Takuto?"

Bakura remembered to breath again as he stared at the image. How had he gotten himself in this situation? He figured that it might have something to do with the back incident and fixed his eyes on Malik. "I think we should discuss this somewhere more private."

The damned smirk widened. "You think wrong. Do you honestly think I'm stupid enough to leave the safety of the crowd for some place you could kill me at?" Malik said, looking all too smug for Bakura's liking. "We will talk right here, mister rising star of the art world. I wonder if the knowledge of your… _hobby_… would chase you little fan base away or add to it?"

Bakura's eye twitched and he let the malicious smirk come forth. "I have a nice spot on My wall I've been saving just for your blood,_ Malik_."

Malik rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm scared. Let's talk business, Mikazuki."

"Business?" Bakura leaned back on the bar despite the anxiety warming his fingers. He wondered if Malik's blood would be just as red as anyone else's, or if the foreigner was just as full of it as his fake face. "And here I thought you wanted to blackmail Me into giving you information…"

"You're funny," Malik stated and sat next to Bakura. "Blackmail, business, same difference," he shrugged. Bakura snorted and thought that Kaiba would like this guy, given that they wouldn't end up killing each other. Despite everything running through him, Bakura waited for the other to start, deciding that it would be best to shut up when he didn't have the upper hand. It was interesting that Malik had figured him out with such ease. It had started out as a lucky guess, Bakura figured, but the real "how" was how he could get out of this situation.

"Ah, I see you have finally shut up," Malik commented and it was Bakura's turn to roll his eyes.

"And I see you have finally started talking." There went the shutting up. "Too bad all you do is spout shit. What do you want?"

The other arched an eyebrow, his blatant amusement doing wonders to Bakura's anger. "I thought you had already figured that out. I want to know a few things."

"I repeat, what do you _want_?"

Malik decided to cut to the chase. "Who do you recommend for an assassination?"

It was Bakura's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Depends on who you want dead, really." The other frowned and Bakura thought it best to continue. He would play along until he could think of something. "How much security are we talking about?"

"…A lot," Malik told after pausing to think. "Probably the best there is."

"The best...?" There was one person he could think on the spot that had top notch security. It was a shot in the dark but he would take it. Were he right, he would be in a much better position in this blackmailing business. "You want to kill Kaiba."

Malik tilted his head to a side. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't." The infuriating smirk was back online. "There are other people with good security."

"But not the best security, not around here." Bakura flipped his hair out of his face. "You do realize that he's the most influential man in Domino, right? You could never get away with it, no matter who you hired."

The shrug that got surprised Bakura. "I don't need to, I just want it done. What happens afterwards doesn't matter."

Bakura recognized this type of conviction to a cause. He could understand, on some level, where this Malik character was coming from. "It's a vendetta."

Malik's eyes narrowed for a second before he nodded, leaning on the bar. "Yes… I guess you could say that." He lifted his head back up. "So… Will you help me to pick someone crazy enough?" The grin was the most real Bakura had seen on that face. He realized that now when they both knew about the other's crimes, they had an equal standing, and was sure that Malik knew it, too. Despite how irritating the other was, he wasn't dumb.

"Even without any personal reasons, I couldn't recommend you anyone. None of them," Bakura waved towards the people present, "could pull it off."

Malik frowned. "Then who can? There has to be _someone_. I can plan it out; I just need someone to execute it." The desperation was all too familiar and since they were being honest for once…

"I could." He had broken into the mansion once for fun and stolen a spoon. It had been because of some temporal insanity or other, and while saner, Bakura figured it would be easy. "…but I can't kill Seto."

Disbelief was evident on Malik's face as he tensed to sit straight. "_Seto_? You _know_ him?"

"Not expecting an artist to have connections like that, were you?" Bakura smirked but it lacked the arrogant quality. The expression was bitter and not easy on the eye. "I want him to be alive for convenience reasons." He had known Seto too long to let him go. Kaiba still owed him, and as it was turning out, Bakura was starting to owe Kaiba a favor or several.

"But I _need_ him dead!" Malik slammed his fist on the wooden surface. "Have you no idea how much trouble I've been through just to get to this damn country? I can't afford to fail now and if you-"

Bakura interrupted the incoming rant. "Shut up, you brat. It's time you learn that nothing comes handed to you on a silver platter. If you want Kaiba dead, go kill him yourself. It's that simple."

If there was something he couldn't stand, it was people who wanted things but weren't willing to go through the work of obtaining them. He, or Kaiba for that matter, wouldn't be where they were if they had just sat on their asses instead of taking action. Kaiba would still be in the shadow of his stepfather, and Bakura would still be living on the street. Or better yet, they could still be in the orphanage, working as handy men for Mistress Bitch. Bakura had seen the other kids ending up as nothing and the mere thought disgusted him.

Malik had been silent for the past minutes but when he spoke, there was new determination. "You're right." Bakura blinked at the admission but Malik smirked. "Your little friend is as good as dead, Bakura."

Bakura smirked right back. "Don't think I'll just stand around and watch you kill him, Malik."

The other jumped off of his barstool, getting ready to leave, but, with a final grin, tossed over his shoulder, "Then stop me."

* * *

If you have something to say, you know what to do :)


	7. but so is porridge

**A/N: **I wrote this chapter extra fast because… I had a moment of enlightenment? I don't know, it just came out so easily! If anyone's wondering about the chapter name, it's sort of linked to the chapter before this. You see, there's this (old) joke: "'Did you know that blood is thicker than water?' asked a vampire from his victim to be. 'But so is porridge,' the victim tried." Yeah, not that funny but at least I got chapter titles xD It also links to the Ishtars and, in a way, to Bakura's… art. Speaking of art, there's a link in my profile to a piece of SC fanart by Fae/KuroiMezzy :)

* * *

**Shattered Crescent**

Part Seven

She passed the same old and worn art poster again. Ishizu glanced at it, the text, "Art of Mikazuki Bakura", hard to read from under the other poster clued on it. It was the same poster she had seen on her way to the police station and it never failed to amaze her. She had never seen inner scenery like that before and now that she had met Bakura Ryou, she was sure that the wheels of destiny were in motion. Why else had the two, Mikazuki Bakura and Bakura Ryou, met if not to carry out something greater?

Ishizu was a firm believer of many things other's thought as rubbish. Her own little brother thought she was out of her mind. The possibility that Malik was right had crossed her mind once or twice but she always shook it off. Malik was too earthbound, too hung on coincidence, to understand her view. She didn't blame him for it. The fact, that everything bad that had happened to him was destined, was difficult to grasp, after all.

She looked around for a bit, trying to see where she should go. Domino was such a strange city… It attracted individuals with bad pasts but also those who weren't as ignorant to the higher forces as people tended to be. Ishizu wondered if she should seek out this Mikazuki who, judging from his paintings, knew so much. She would have liked to find out if he _understood_ what he knew, or if he was just as confused as Bakura Ryou.

* * *

Bakura took a look at the mirror covering most of his hall wall. He hadn't stopped to admire his appearance because for the first time in ages, he had a moral dilemma. The thought made him snort but didn't stop his image from mocking him.

His eyes met with those on the mirror, a frown settling on both sets of features. Bakura placed his hand on the reflective surface, the ring making a sharp '_click_'. He thought he could care for Ryou but…

"Do you think it's wrong?" he whispered and, "_gnorw s'ti kniht uoy oD?_" replied the mirror.

It didn't help to ask the question out loud when he had just himself to ask for guidance. Bakura wasn't the best at giving out advice, even he had to admit that. The advice he gave worked for him, with things that concerned him and no one else. Despite how they had one name in common, Ryou wasn't Bakura, and unlike Bakura, Ryou wasn't aware of the situation they were in.

Bakura smirked at his worried reflection, shaking his head. It was stupid and too late to think about that now when things were in motion. After a final glance at the image, he grasped the bag with Ryou's clothes in it and marched out. He had even washed and ironed the damn things.

On his way to the police station, the Malik-issue raised its silly head. He had decided not to do anything about it for the time being; he would be the first to know if the brat came close to succeeding. Bakura was skeptical about Malik's chances of pulling the murder off but underestimating was never good. And besides, Ryou was a far more pleasant to think about.

Bakura didn't know where at the station Ryou worked but figured he could find out or just wait for the other by the doors. He stepped through the main doors, realizing that he hadn't been there before. A small miracle, his lifestyle considered.

As Bakura looked around, hoping to spot Ryou, he found something else that didn't do good things to his state of mind. A picture of Malik's face was taped on the wall, with "_Missing!_" written all over it. Bakura's eyebrow arched as he moved to take a closer look.

"Malik Ishtar, huh..?"

* * *

Ryou lifted his head from the pile of papers it had been buried in upon hearing his colleague's voice.

"About the stuff you wrote here," the man waved the written analysis. "Do you think we could tweak it up a bit and publish it without a fuss? I mean, with the… killer and all…"

Ryou frowned. The way the other spoke of it was too degrading for his tastes. "What do you mean by 'tweaking'?" If that meant what he thought it did, he would want a good explanation for it. It was his text, and so far, he thought it to be accurate. He hadn't written it to be published and didn't like the idea.

"Well… Change a few things… Like this praise you give to the killer's intelligence. I don't think that's what we should-"

To his own surprise, Ryou stood up, interrupting whatever was coming next. "I didn't write it to please the crowd and if you use it and change it, you better slap your own name on it as well." He had worked hard to write it and if the basic facts were to be changed… it wouldn't be his text anymore but propaganda. Ryou would not let anyone print any deliberate lies with his name on them. As if the stunt '_Evening Domino_' pulled hadn't done enough damage.

The investigator looked taken back. "But Bakura, you must understand, the citizens-"

Ryou tried hard to keep polite but the smile refused to come. "Look… I don't think people need to be told… creative truths."

"But if it calmed them down…"

"Leave the lies to trash papers like '_ED_'," Ryou told, his frown threatening to form into a glare. He wasn't sure why he got so defensive about the whole deal but he blamed it on the article written about him. The things he wrote about the murderer weren't praise, they were facts. "Now, if you excuse me…" He walked away, grabbing his things. He had stated what he thought about it, not that he expected anyone to listen, and now his conscience would be clean incase they went against his word. Why didn't they understand? Ryou had a good reason why he had told the press to tune it down. It was like his coworkers hadn't read what he had written.

While stomping out of the building, Ryou forgot to inform Honda he was leaving. Honda wasn't his mother, and Ryou was angry. The evening shadows criss-crossed on the boring, gray floor, and Ishizu Ishtar crossed Ryou's thoughts. That had been a strange encounter and yet, it felt like Ryou should have known what the woman had been talking about. It was as though…

Ryou shook his head. There was nothing supernatural about any of this. As much as he wanted to believe that maybe there was, he couldn't bring himself to, not anymore.

The front doors came to view and Ryou came to a sudden halt as he happened to glance up from the floor. The man stood against the sun light, and Ryou remembered to breathe when he waved, lifting up a plastic bag. A new frown darkened Ryou's face as he started walking again; wondering if this was some kind of a cruel joke.

Why did Bakura always show up like this?

The familiar smirk took its rightful place. Ryou's frown deepened; he hadn't realized it was a "familiar smirk" until now.

"Hey," Bakura greeted. "How are you this fine evening?"

Hadn't Ryou been frowning, he would have started to. "Why are you here?" He wasn't angry at Bakura anymore but he had other things to be angry about and Bakura was _there_. For some reason, it was easy to get angry at Bakura. Ryou got the feeling that Bakura wouldn't judge him by what emotions he showed. "Are you stalking me now?"

Bakura blinked, the picture boy for twisted innocence, and pointed at himself. "Who, Me? Stalking? Nooo…" The smirk came back when Ryou folded his arms. "I thought you'd like your clothes back." He held the bag even higher and waved it from side to side in front of Ryou's face like some kind of a hobo's hypno-clock.

Ryou stopped the waving, taking the bag and looking inside. He hadn't thought Bakura would bring them back, or had hoped he wouldn't, but now when the clothes were there, unharmed and _neat_, he felt grateful. A small smile slipped on his face without his permission.

"Um, thank you… I should return yours." Ryou glanced up.

"You can show Me where you live while you're at it." Bakura grinned. Ryou was ready to scowl but reminded himself that he wasn't angry with Bakura this time; it would be wrong to take it all out on him. He took a deep breath instead, reminding himself that the clothes were ironed.

"Why are you _really_ here?"

"Well… I'm here to take you out and to charm My way into your pants," Bakura told. "It's Friday, Ryou," he added, as if that explained everything.

Ryou blinked, forgetting to react to the first part. "Fri…day..?" It clicked, their last meeting coming back to him. The realization didn't make him any less irritated. "I never agreed on going out with you today, or any day," he told. "As I remember it, I declined so if you'll excuse me, I have to go home." He moved to go past Bakura.

"Who are you going home to?"

The words stopped Ryou on his tracks unlike any physical obstacle could have done. He didn't turn to face Bakura but guessed that the other had noticed what effect the words had on him.

"Because if there's no one there, except for your precious work, why bother?" Bakura continued and Ryou found himself listening to every word. "Come with Me, Ryou. It'll be fun, I promise."

"What if…" he started. "What if I don't want 'fun'?" Ryou wanted to go, or didn't want to go home, but there were things keeping him back, preventing him from just agreeing. "What if I want serious?" He needed to know before jumping into anything with even half a foot. He refused to be a harmless pastime.

Bakura was silent, _for once_, before answering. "Then serious it is."

Ryou stared at the pavement wide eyed for a moment longer before lifting his head. He spun around to face Bakura, to see if there was any deceit.

Even the mischievous twinkle had left Bakura's eye and only the strange, almost caring look remained.

"You're serious," Ryou breathed, more to himself, to gather his thoughts into something resembling a mind.

The smirk came back. "I thought that's what you wanted. Honestly, if you can't decide what you want..."

Ryou blushed. Wasn't that what he had told Bakura the last time? "Er… Sorry, I was just… I wasn't expecting you to… really, you know, to agree and… yeah," Ryou tried to get his thoughts out of his mouth but it wasn't working. Bakura grinned at him but somehow, it didn't feel like he was making fun of Ryou.

"You're really mean deep down, aren't you?" Bakura asked. "You're lucky I'm not more sensitive or I would be insulted by your distrust." The grin didn't leave and Ryou found himself smiling. There was something about the other that made him smile even when he was angry or annoyed. Ryou didn't know what it was about Bakura but guessed it had something to do with his brand of humor.

"Ah, an expression that's not a frown," Bakura broke Ryou's musing. "Does this mean you will come with Me?"

Ryou laughed, shaking his head but not to decline. "You've talked me into it. What did you have in mind?" When Ryou realized that he shouldn't have asked, it was too late.

"I was thinking about dragging you to the nearest corner and molesting you but since you're _such_ a spoil sport you'll only get coffee," he smirked, "instead of Bakura."

The urge to punch the other for being so tactless was close to taking over. Ryou settled on repeating his new mantra, 'the clothes were ironed', in his mind. He hoped the thought would bring him enough patience to live through whatever he had just agreed on. "I think I'll enjoy that coffee…"

* * *

Earlier that Friday evening, Seto had been sitting in the dining room table, talking to Mokuba about things that didn't have anything to do with KaibaCorp when their rare chat had been interrupted. Seto had been in a pleasant mood for just a second and someone had to call to his private number and ruin it for him.

"I thought I told you not to call this number, Mikazuki." If grinning made a sound, he would have heard it.

"_Actually, you told Me not to call unless it was an emergency._"

Seto frowned. "What 'emergency'?"

"_Does the name 'Ishtar' ring any bell?_"

He had to pause to think. This better be important for interrupting his free time. "Ishtar… An Ishtar owned a company that was specialized on knives and blades. As I remember, Gouzaburou bought parts of it but KC no longer had need for it when we stopped weapon industry…" He had seen the document some years back.

"_What happened to the company?_"

"Why are you so interested?" Seto asked. Mikazuki wouldn't care about anything like that unless it was somehow relevant. "It doesn't matter to me what happened." KaibaCorp didn't need anything weapon related anymore. What happened to some company wasn't his concern.

"_But you could find out if you wanted to, correct?_"

Seto snorted. "Of course." The man on the other end started to annoy him but, during the years, he had learned that listening to Mikazuki could be useful. "But why would I?"

"_To know the motives of certain people that might just be after your life, perhaps?_"

"Mikazuki if you won't go to the point-"

"_I have to go. Nice talking to you, bye!_"

Seto glared at the phone for a second. In times like this, he wasn't sure if Mikazuki was a genius or a complete moron. He entered the dining room again, having left to take care of the conversation, and saw Mokuba smirking at him.

"That was Bakura, right? What did he want?" the teen asked when Seto took his seat. Mokuba liked Mikazuki more than his brother did but that was just because the crazy bastard had stood up for him when Seto hadn't been around.

"You can never know with him…" Seto muttered and Mokuba snickered but didn't comment.

* * *

Ryou placed his bag under the table. He hadn't taken Bakura as a small café type of person but realized that the choice had something to do with the tiny tables placed in secluded corners. Bakura wasn't touching him but Ryou knew that he _could_ and that made him nervous. What made him even more anxious was that he knew Bakura knew he was nervous. The knowledge was written all over that face.

Maybe agreeing hadn't been such a great idea after all. Ryou made a mental note not to let Bakura talk him into anything ever again.

"Do I really make you this uneasy?" Bakura broke the silence. Ryou considered saying "No" but since Bakura _knew_ the answer, there was no point in denying it.

"Yes… Yes, you do," Ryou admitted. "I… just somehow," he looked down at his untouched tea, "…get the feeling you know a lot more about me than you let on and I…" The tea wasn't that interesting so he glanced up, "I know next to nothing about you…"

Bakura smirked. "Despite how I know about your investigations and such, I don't know much about you as a person. A bit like you know about My art, really." Bakura leaned back. "You know everything you need to know about Mikazuki Bakura, the artist, but…" he trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging and Ryou knew what he meant.

"You're right." Ryou smiled a little, letting himself relax. "So, Mikazuki Bakura, the person, what do you do besides paint?"

"Sleep, mostly," Bakura shrugged. "But not as much as I'd like to since I prefer working at night… It's damn difficult to sleep when everyone else is awake."

The small smile widened into a grin. "A fellow workaholic, then. Do your friends pester you about always working and not sleeping or eating properly, too?"

"They know better than that. I'd bite their head off if they interfered."

Ryou laughed, leaning his head on his palm. "I wish I could do that…" The comment made Bakura raise a brow.

"What? Bite heads off?"

"Well, yes, but only in theory. You know, to have that something that would make them leave me alone once in a while." Ryou grasped what he was saying and hurried to reword it. "I mean, I like my friends and coworkers but they don't really… relate to my situation…"

Bakura nodded. "You mean the murder investigation."

Ryou's eyes widened in a mixture of amazement and relief. "You didn't say 'kill'." He hadn't meant to say that aloud but it slipped out before he could stop it. He blushed because of his slipup but Bakura looked amused.

"You think I should have?"

"What?" Ryou asked, getting a hold of the conversation again. "No!" he yelled and a few heads turned. Ryou sank further into his seat in embarrassment. While Ryou was trying to hide under the table, Bakura grinned and waved at the people staring. For a second, Ryou wondered what on earth Bakura was doing but the strange gesture got everyone to look away. He glanced between Bakura and the other people before deciding that it was safe to come out again and continue from where he had left off.

"No, it's just that… Everyone at work and the press and everything…" he let the sentence die, kicking his back bag. He needed to talk to someone about this, someone who would _listen_ and not just wave him off or put his views down. He looked at Bakura who was watching him like he was the most interesting thing in the whole wide world. Bakura would listen.

Ryou reached for his bag to dig out a copy of his latest writing. "You're a civilian so I shouldn't…" He paused and laughed, one of the hollow laughs he shared when he wasn't amused. "Who am I kidding; I'm not really an investigator either…" Ryou found what he was looking for and raised it for the other to see. "I wrote this concerning the case. See here?" he pointed at parts of the text. "I wrote 'murder' and 'murderer' many times over to make my point, I even put this silly side note here," his finger passed a side of the page. "'_Kill equals no intended, murder equals yes intended. Stop being delusional,_'" Ryou quoted himself.

"Can I… Can I read it?" Bakura asked, holding his hand out. Ryou focused on him again, blinking at the odd tone of voice and at the near stammer. He had never heard Bakura hesitate with his words like that. Ryou thought that it couldn't be uncertainty but failed to come up with other explanations.

"…Ok…" Ryou handed the pages to Bakura and added in a moment of bitterness, "Just don't ask to change it and publish it…"

Bakura glanced at him over the papers but said nothing.

Ryou started fiddling with a napkin while watching Bakura's eyes pass the lines of writing and pausing a few times to glance at Ryou. Their knees brushed under the table though Ryou was sure he hadn't moved. He searched the other's face for any signs that it hadn't been accidental, and finding none, reminded himself to relax. The people who intended to jump you didn't inform the jump-ee beforehand, right? Bakura had made it clear that he wanted to molest Ryou and Ryou assumed that meant the other wouldn't do anything.

Bakura finished reading and gave the papers back to Ryou. Neither said anything for a while, Ryou waiting for Bakura to comment on what he had read, and Bakura stirring his cooling coffee.

"Well…?" Ryou tried. For some reason, what Bakura thought about it was important to him. Bakura met his eyes, the corner of his lips tilting up in what Ryou assumed was a half smile.

"It looks like you know what you're doing."

Ryou couldn't help but smile, the expression relieved and broad. "Thank you." It felt great to hear someone acknowledge the effort he put into his work. He hadn't realized how close he was to loosing faith and starting to think that maybe everyone else was right, that he had been wrong all along. "You have no idea how good it feels to hear that."

Bakura's smile changed into a smirk. "I think I have _some_ idea, at least."

* * *

And Ryou thought _he_ felt great. Were Bakura not as careful as he was, he would have started jumping in joy. _Someone_ had noticed the effort he put into his art. Despite how he did not jump around like a loon, he hummed while walking down the street with Ryou. It wasn't that he needed acknowledgement, but since it was coming from _Ryou_…

It was getting dark out and Ryou had insisted that it wouldn't be safe to walk around late on a Friday night. Bakura had rolled his eyes at that, because _he_ was the reason why walking around late at night wasn't safe, but had agreed on heading home. And because Ryou's home was on his way home, he had offered to walk the other. Bakura had _not_ picked the café based on that knowledge… It was a nice café…

"It's funny how we live so close to each other," Ryou said, stopping near the front door of his apartment building.

"Correction, it's _fortunate_." Bakura grinned when Ryou blushed.

"Uh, yeah, I guess…" Ryou looked as though he didn't know what to do next. He glanced at the door and then at Bakura who waited to see what he would do. "Um… I should… go inside now so… bye?" Ryou said, starting to fiddle with the sleeve of his shirt. "Unless you…"

Bakura raised an eyebrow. "Unless I..?" he helped. He wanted Ryou to finish his suggestion but the other looked like he wouldn't if not encouraged.

"Unless you'd like to… do something together, sometime?" Ryou asked, and Bakura grinned, victorious. "I mean, when neither is busy with work, which is probably _never_ so…"

"Now that we have started cheating on our respective jobs already, we might as well continue. Right?"

Ryou let go of his sleeve and snickered. "Right." He smiled. "I'm sure we will run into each other again, then."

"Yeah…" Bakura sighed; blaming it on the damned, pretty smile that made him want to _do things_ to the person it belonged to. He decided not to analyze his chances and pull Ryou closer by his shirt collar instead. He didn't regret his decision when Ryou's eye closed after the first shock and a gentle hand made the back of his neck feel warm.

Ryou pulled away first, flashing an awkward smile and tinting pink. "Um… I really have to go now," he told and backed away. Bakura grinned as the other tried to open the door by pulling before remembering that he needed a key to get in. Ryou laughed at his own mishap while digging out his keys, managing to get in.

"Good night, Ryou," Bakura whispered before turning to walk away. Besides slipping his phone number into the bag he had given Ryou, he hadn't planned his next move yet. He wasn't too worried, though. Ryou just had to play along.

An old, discarded newspaper rolled around on the street in front of him. Bakura spared a glance at it and almost stopped in mid-step, turning his head to look at the gray paper. His eyebrow arched and a grin formed as he watched the paper fly around.

If he could do anything _to_ Ryou, yet, then maybe he could do something _for_ him.

* * *

Is it just me, or does the "Go" button look like it needs clicking?


	8. irrational

**A/N: **Yes, this took long. As always, I have an explanation and/or an excuse but I doubt you care as long as I update _eventually_. Which I tend to do. I'm always apologizing about not updating these days… I should start writing more often just so I wouldn't have to feel guilty xD …and to give you more updates.

* * *

**Shattered Crescent**

Part Eight 

Ryou sighed while scribbling on a page he should have been writing on. He had sat down to write and found himself thinking about Bakura, instead of why would someone want to collect limbs. Realizing that he was distracted from his work by someone he had thought to be a pain in the backside wasn't easy. His work had been top priority since he had been hired.

"Alright, concentrate…" Ryou stopped trying to draw a flower; the poor thing looked deformed as it was. "'The reason the limbs go missing is'," he muttered as he wrote but his brain had decided to take a day off and nothing came to mind. Ryou stared at the paper, the pen ready to write in case something popped up. Friday evening passed his mind but that had nothing to do with anything.

Someone leaning over his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts. Ryou jumped and whirled his head around to see Honda staring at his doodles. He blushed a little and turned the paper only to find that he had doodled on the other side as well.

"Um, Honda, why… uh… Is there something you wanted?" Ryou asked while trying to ignore the confused frown on his friend's face.

Honda shrugged, straightening himself. "Not really… You just looked a bit out of it so I thought I'd check up on you."

"Oh, ok." Ryou smiled. The other looked at him like he had just grown an extra hand on his head. "What?"

"Ok, now you have to tell me what's going on," Honda told. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile like that."

Ryou tilted his head, the smile coming down a notch but not fading. "Like what?"

"You know, like… _that_!" Honda tried to explain, pointing at Ryou's face. "Like you don't have a care in the world despite how you're supposed to be writing about some crazy, homicidal guy." A realization lit Honda's face, and for some reason, Ryou felt wary.

"Uh, Honda?"

"Mikazuki Bakura, eh?"

Ryou's face turned red. "What- How did you...?"

"You wrote his name on the corner of the page," Honda gestured towards the paper lying on Ryou's desk. Ryou glanced at it with wide eyes and moved his hand to cover it.

"I… I just wanted to see how his name looked like in my handwriting…" he mumbled, the explanation sounding stupid even in his own ears. He wasn't looking at Honda, too embarrassed, but had he been paying attention, he would have seen the next question coming and it wouldn't have made his thoughts wander into territories he didn't want them to wander yet.

"Did you two..?"

Ryou coughed and his head snapped up to stare at Honda. "What makes you think we did?" he asked and added before Honda could answer, "Don't answer that. And no, we did not."

Honda shrugged. "Whatever you say." Ryou glared at him so Honda raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I just assumed that you got laid but knowing you, I shouldn't have. You probably just had a nice talk with him and that's why you're so…" Honda waved at the general direction of Ryou's face. "…cheery. Because, you know, you're weird like that."

"Honda…" Ryou warned and the other backed away.

"Ok, I'll leave you to your daydreaming. But if you're going out, I want to meet this guy."

Ryou's smile took its time forming. "If you're sure… You might not like him, at first, but…" He tried out a laugh but it didn't work the way he would have liked. "Maybe he'll grow on you."

Honda gave the other a strange look before turning to walk out the door. "Right, well, I must be off…" Ryou guessed he deserved the look for choosing such odd words. But then again, he hadn't been too fond of Bakura at first and yet, he had let himself be kissed and kiss back.

After Honda left, Ryou's shoulders slumped and he let his head fall on the desk. The desk wasn't one of those soft ones so he ended up holding his head while muttering small curses. He had been sitting there for hours and the only things he had managed to write were, "_The reason the limbs go missing is_", and "_Mikazuki Bakura_".

* * *

By the time Bakura rose to stand over the bastard of a reporter, the man's eyes had rolled to the back of his skull. He had struggled a lot for a guy who spent his days clued in front of his computer, writing crap. Bakura guessed he would put up a fight, too, if he woke up with his better hand nailed to a wall.

The pace of the blood bursting forth from above the shirt collar slowed down before stopping and changing into a small stream. The human body only had so much to offer, after all.

He had placed a mug under the hand nailed on the wall next to the victim's bed. He just needed a little and the rest could soak the sheets. He picked the mug up, jumping off the bed, and smirked. Even in the computer lit room, he could see well enough.

"_You can borrow this mug but then I'll have to kill you_," said the red writing on the side of the mug. He chuckled at the irony, facing away from the body. As if a pathetic, wannabe writer could kill anyone, whether someone touched his mug or not. Judging from the one room apartment on the bad side of the city, the latest donator didn't entertain many people. He thought he even saw a cockroach run by his feet.

Now when he had the supplies, he could get on with his little project.

But first things first, there was someone he needed to call before that someone's older brother got himself killed. He hadn't seen Malik around. It could be a good thing, meaning the brat had left, but some regulars from _Devil's Lair_ had also gone missing. People who were guaranteed to be at the same place at the same time hadn't showed up during the weekend. There was a chance that it had nothing to do with Malik but something was going on in Domino and when it came to things, or _people_, that weren't one hundred percent under his control, Malik came second only to Ryou.

* * *

"Yeah, but if my brother thinks it's not that important…"

Seto could hear Mokuba whispering into the phone from across the room. Even if Mikazuki was an idiot, he sure got his timing right every time. Having his rare meetings with Mokuba interrupted didn't sit well with Seto, and neither did the fact that his "friend" was trying to get to him through his little brother. Whatever the artist had in mind had better be damn important. But while fuming in his chair, staring through the huge glass window, Seto realized that the other man knew better than to cross him without a good reason.

"Well, if you're sure… Ok, I'll do something about that. Sure, bye."

After Mokuba hung up, Seto spoke, "If he wanted you to do something illegal, forget it."

Mokuba arched his brows, wiping all signs of guilt from his face. "You should put some more faith in him, you know. I'm sure he knows what he's doing, he always does."

"Faith as in trust?" Seto spun his chair all the way around so he could face Mokuba. "I don't trust him and neither will you." Despite how he had learned to trust his younger brother's judgment, he didn't think that Bakura was capable of being honest. "Now, what did he ask you to do?"

"To dig out information about the Ishtars if you're too stubborn to," the younger one informed, folding his arms and flopping on a chair opposite to his brother's desk. "He says that you 'might possibly be in some sort of danger'." Mokuba rolled his eyes at the choice of words but the corner of his mouth kept twitching up. "Probably not a huge danger since he said it like that but…" he shrugged, "Like you say, you can never know with him."

Seto was about to say something but stopped and settled to glaring Mokuba's forehead when he realized what was happening. Either Mokuba got the information for Seto, willing to protect him, or he, to prevent Mokuba from being sucked into anything, got the info himself. In the end, Seto would find out whatever it was that Mikazuki wanted him to find out. It wasn't often that the CEO got played and he was just as irritated every time it happened.

"Damn him," Seto muttered. He met eyes with his brother who looked concerned. "I will dig up the information. Shouldn't you be working?" Why couldn't Mikazuki find the info himself and send it to him if it was so important?

Mokuba smirked. "Yeah, I'm off," he told and got up. "You coming home for the night?"

"No, I think this will be a long evening." He had work to do that didn't involve KaibaCorp, after all. He needed to find out what was it with the Ishtars and figure out how he could kill Bakura incase this was a joke. The later would take all night seeing how the bastard was near impossible to get rid of.

* * *

Since he was getting nothing done, Ryou decided to leave the station. Maybe he could think better at his apartment and he was sure no one would mind him leaving a little early for once. Ryou went to find Honda first so he wouldn't worry over nothing again. Ryou was fine, like he always was.

"Bakura!"

Ryou turned at his coworker's sudden yell. A sobbing lump of hair and blanket was pushed towards him, catching him off guard and almost sending both him and the lump, on the floor. The blanket struggled away when he tried to keep them balanced and stumbled to sit on the floor. Ryou, not quite over his surprise, shot a questioning look to his coworker. "Wha-What are yo-?"

"Take care of her," the officer told while turning to go back to his colleagues. "Found something interesting near the train station, a bit out of hand, I'll give you the info when we have it."

The smashed together sentences as the only explanation, Ryou was left confused. What, or who, was out of hand? This girl or some situation? He sighed. The people who dealt with hard boiled criminals couldn't deal with crying women. Ryou was sure there was someone with the right kind of training for it but he was always trusted with the panicking, the hysterical and the grieving.

He had thought the young female was crying but the one sitting on the floor, wrapped in a blanket, wasn't sobbing; she was giggling. It wasn't the strangest reaction to shock and stress he had seen but it did make it to his top five. After some hesitation, Ryou sat down and hoped he wouldn't screw up and get hit or bitten or laughed at.

"Hey," he started and smiled even though she didn't look like she was paying attention. "This floor is pretty uncomfortable but there's a chair just behind this desk. Would you rather sit there?" She glanced at him from behind her messy hair. "It's a very nice chair, I should know, I sit on it every day. I'd like to know what happened to you, too."

Ryou wasn't sure if being stared at was improvement, or if he should be unnerved or relieved. He tried the relieved option, and it worked, at least until she spoke.

"…can you bring back my dad?"

It was a whisper but loud enough for Ryou to hear. He felt like starting to giggle like the girl had moments earlier, not because the question was funny but to feel less scared. Ryou shook his head, trying to keep his voice from cracking. "I'm sorry, I-" And what felt like the tenth time he was interrupted today, someone was by the doorframe again.

"Bakura, come and take a look," spoke the officer from earlier. "The shrink's here, she'll take care of her," he gestured towards the girl on the floor. Ryou didn't want to leave her yet but figured that this "shrink" knew what to do better than he did. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what was going on anymore.

"_B-brother? Can… can you bring mommy back?"_

"… _I'm sorry, Amane…"_

* * *

A knock on the door. Bakura's eye rose from his work, the concentrated frown turning into one of annoyance. He put his brush down, not looking where it landed, stalking towards the door. He hadn't invited anyone over, Kaiba had keys and didn't hesitate to use them… Unless it was _Ryou_. Bakura was sure Ryou wasn't blind enough to not notice he had a doorbell, though.

Behind the door was definitely _not_ Ryou. A woman stood there, farther than his hand could reach. She was rather beautiful but the look on her face told that this wasn't a social call. Bakura wondered if this one even made social calls.

"Yes?" he asked when she said nothing.

"Good afternoon." Her manner was calm and polite, not friendly but enough to put the listener into an ease. "I'm sorry to disturb you but there is something I need to ask."

Bakura raised an eyebrow. Formal words, serious face, slight accent, weird eyes… If this was another Ishtar…

"I am Ishizu Ishtar."

He felt like laughing but hid it behind a mask of indifference. In situations like these, he almost hoped that he could be wrong for once. The burden of always being right was horrid.

"Perhaps you know my brother," she continued, "Malik Ishtar?" It was posing as a question but she knew the answer, Bakura was sure of it.

He shrugged. "I have seen his face on the wall of missing persons." It was easier to leave things out than to make things up and Bakura didn't know how much this woman knew. Yet. Maybe this was why Malik was in such a hurry to get things done: a big sister coming after her misbehaving baby brother.

She acknowledged his answer with a nod. "When you went to see Bakura Ryou, yes…" Ishizu Ishtar trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging between them. Bakura felt a small smirk starting to play on his face; a careless gesture but if this lady could solve his pest problem, well worth it.

"And what do you know about Ryou?" He leaned against the doorframe, relaxing. This was his territory and he knew how to use his hidden blade.

"Not much," the Ishtar woman smiled a little. "I'm sure your knowledge of him is much more intimate than mine."

Bakura chuckled, adding some teeth to his smirk. "I should hope so." He peeked into the corridor, to see if despite the soundless air, someone was on the move. In a building like this, where the hallways were wide, it was difficult to move without sound. Not impossible, just hard. But most of his neighbors preferred shoes that told they were coming with sharp clicks against the floor, and Bakura wondered if he was getting paranoid.

He made sure to change his smirk into a softer one before speaking again, "Would you like to come in?"

The smile on the Ishtar's face made its final effort to stay alive before fading. "I would rather not."

Bakura let his expression drop as it was not working. Smart people got on his nerves sometimes. "Yes… It's just that the corridor isn't the best place for a discussion."

"This won't take long."

* * *

Hiroto rushed past the people going to the opposite direction. Something had snapped the whole force into action, the passive silence finally gone and replaced with anger and panic and a steady flow of people. The change of mood had something to do with a girl wrapped in blankets, pointing at random people and laughing.

Hiroto had expected Ryou to be where chaos was but he was nowhere to be found. This had to be because of the damn case Bakura was working on. That idiot, always overworking, putting his sanity on the line and not even telling his own friend what the hell was going on. Why couldn't Ryou rely on him?

Hiroto shook his head, glaring at another busy person who pushed him. It would be ok to call Bakura by his first name if only in his head. Wouldn't it? Hiroto decided that the answer was yes and continued to push his way through. He had asked around and been told that Ryou had left in a hurry with copies of some new material. Hiroto wasn't sure what was going on but it was bad enough to make Ryou abandon ship, and that was all the information he needed.

* * *

Ishizu found the man in front of her grinning and stopped herself before she could step back. The twisted expression was carefree in her moment of fright.

"Do you know what little Malik is up to, _Miss Ishtar_?"

The words were spoken through the grin and Ishizu shook her head once from side to side. She did not know. Neither had moved from their initial spots but the hallway felt smaller, as if the walls had moved in during their conversation. She had readied herself to meet someone like the one standing before her, unwilling to let the person she came to study, study her, but…

"I thought as much. You should take better care of your brother." His eyes widened as though he had just remembered something. "Oh, right. He's an adult now so you're free of all responsibility."

Ishizu's eyes narrowed; the tone was too sweet. She didn't have to take any of this mockery. "I feel I have been here for far too long, taking your time. I must go." She bent her head down a little though the gesture was cold and short. "Goodbye, Mr. Mikazuki." She took that longed for step back, heading for the elevator. This visit hadn't gone like she would have liked. No new information about Malik, only the discovery of Mikazuki Bakura's character. She hoped Bakura Ryou knew _what_ he was getting himself into.

"Have a nice day, Miss. I hope you find your missing brother."

Ishizu clenched her fist. Mikazuki Bakura did not _care_.

The sound of the elevator gave her new hope. She was getting out of here alive. The door slid open and she was met with a surprised stare. Ishizu stared back for a moment, taking note of the red under the eyes and the fading tear tracks. "Bakura Ryou…" she addressed the young man stood in the elevator.

"O-oh, Miss Ishtar," he forced on a smile. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Worry showed on her features. Something was troubling the poor creature and he came here to search for comfort. Why? Ishizu glanced past her shoulder at Mikazuki. The man stood in his doorway, watching the situation unfold. Her worry didn't fade but a frown made its way to her face. Was this Bakura Ryou not as observant as she had thought? Surely, no one in their right mind would run to _that man_ when in need of someone to lean on.

"What are you doing here?" Her words came out colder than she had planned. Maybe he hadn't come here to meet _him_, maybe someone else he knew lived here and… Ishizu found the thought stupid even while thinking it.

The other looked taken back, the smile vanishing and leaving nothing behind. "I came here to see Bakura but…" he bit his lip, "I don't… I shouldn't have come. I think I'll just…"

"Since you're already here, and spotted, you owe Me an explanation to your… _state_."

Ishizu jumped a little when the words were spoken right next to her. She glanced at the man, then back at Ryou, and saw, much to her surprise, well masked worry and hid relief.

"Bakura…" Ryou looked away but Ishizu was certain there had been a small hint of a smile. "This is a bad time, so I just… I don't know why I'm here, I just sort of… came and-"

Mikazuki had moved past Ishizu and into the elevator. Ryou stopped talking and looked up at him, confused. The other smirked. "We have things to talk about and here we would only be bugged by nosy people," he shot Ishizu a look, leaning over Ryou to press the button for the street level. "I'm sure Miss Ishtar can wait for her turn." He grinned, waving at Ishizu when the door slid shut and the only thing she could do, was blink.

Had her instinct been wrong?

* * *

This is the point where I ask you to review and you review with glee. Hint Hint.


	9. this scene needs a car

**A/N: **Damn I've been lazy… Well, here it is at last! I've even started to work on some fics I haven't worked on in a long time, such as TDEL and this one fic I'm writing just for shits and giggles. I think the chapter could be better but it got a bit out of hand and the scenes got longer and longer. To prevent this chapter from being a gigantic one, I cut it down a little and decided to put the rest into the next chapter. The bad thing about that is that now this chapter is somewhat crappy.

* * *

**Shattered Crescent**

Part Nine

Caught under Bakura's stare, Ryou felt stupid for coming. Why had he run to Bakura when they barely knew each other? He should have gone to Honda. Ryou knew Honda wanted him to open up, to tell his worries, and, in many ways, Honda _deserved_ to know what was going on. The knowledge did nothing to encourage Ryou, instead making things more difficult and complicated. It made Ryou feel guilty.

He should have just gone home.

Bakura hadn't stopped looking at him yet and Ryou wondered if his eyes had somehow stuck that way. Was the other waiting for Ryou to say something first? In that case, he would be waiting for a long time as all the words Ryou had learned, had disappeared. Bakura looked so serious; nothing was left of the grin he had showed Miss Ishtar. Which was the act?

The elevator slowed down as it neared the bottom level, and as if realizing that this was his final change, Bakura pulled Ryou close. Ryou, too surprised to react, just raised his hand to push the other away but the movement was cut short and the hand left limp against Bakura's chest. What..?

The 'gling' told them that time was up and Ryou was released from the awkward embrace. He stared as Bakura straightened his back, flipping his hair behind his shoulder, and walked out looking as unfazed as one can be. Ryou wasn't so well off and it took the other's grip on his arm to drag him out of the elevator. Despite his confusion, the hug had made him feel better. In a strange way, it had been almost _motherly_… Not a quality one would associate with the man walking beside him now.

"It's a pity I couldn't invite you in," Bakura spoke, glancing at Ryou with a smirk. "But I needed to get away from that nosy woman, and the place is a bit of a mess."

Ryou frowned at the statement but decided that if Bakura didn't want to talk about the elevator, he wouldn't bring it up. "Oh… That's ok." But it wasn't like he hadn't seen a mess at Bakura's apartment before… "What… I mean, you don't _have_to tell me but, why was Miss Ishtar there?" The other kept walking, facing the street, and Ryou followed. He didn't know where they were heading but he was too occupied by other things for it to bother him.

They passed the building and it was almost as if Bakura hadn't heard the question. "She seemed to know you."

Ryou shrugged in what would have been a careless gesture hadn't it been so stiff. "I work at the police station and her brother is missing, we met once." How could he forget that meeting when it had been so strange? "She acted kind of weird, gave me her number for… some reason." Ryou didn't feel like sharing that particular conversation. He saw Bakura smirk and hoped he could somehow find out what the other was thinking. Ryou couldn't just observe him for a while and tell what kind of a person he was, nor could Ryou predict what he would say or do next.

"I doubt you came here to talk about her." The street no longer held Bakura's attention; Ryou did. "Or did you cry in joy when you were reunited?"

The question earned a sharp look. "That was uncalled for. What if something serious happened?"

A white eyebrow arched. "It was obviously serious if it made you so upset. I never took you as someone who cried over nothing."

"And yet you joke about it. You're so insensitive…" Though, Ryou wasn't sure if that was true. People who didn't give a damn didn't comfort others, and he was hell bent on believing that the hug was meant for him, not for Bakura's hormones. But Bakura was right; he hadn't run here to talk about Miss Ishtar nor had he come here to argue. "Thanks for being a bit interested, at least, though." He gave the other a smile as a peace offering. Bakura accepted it with a nod.

"You're quite welcome."

Ryou realized the silence that followed must have been meant for him to start talking. Spilling his heart out wasn't his strongest point. Perhaps this was the perfect time to practice. "Something happened at work," he started but found it difficult to continue. He glanced at Bakura who seemed to be concentrating. Ryou was a bit inclined to think that the other was focused on keeping his mouth shut so no frogs could jump out. That was a terrible thing to think about someone ready to listen but not too far from the truth.

Trying to figure out how to continue, Ryou frowned at the pavement, as if it was its fault he wasn't sure what to say and how much to tell. A hand settled on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Ryou blinked at the street, surprised by the gesture but it prompted him to keep going.

"You see, there was this… girl who said something, lived by the train station, and, her father had been… cut." He didn't dare to look at the other, concentrating on walking, determined not to let the hand distract him. It was heavy and warm.

"Cut?"

"Hm, his leg was missing," Ryou stated and the hand slacked a little. "Not that disturbing in itself, or, I mean of course it is but," he took a deep breath to clear his mind. Since when had missing limbs become a normal, every day occurrence? "That's not what bothered me the most."

"But something the girl said did?"

Ryou nodded. "She asked me if I could bring her father back." It was easier to talk now when his voice wasn't the only one. Bakura snorted but Ryou took no offence as the other didn't know the full story.

"That's just stupid."

"I guess…" He agreed half heartedly, pausing to choose his words. It had been a while since he had last spoken to anyone about the matter. "She reminded me of… my sister, or of what she was like, once, after mother's accident." Amane had, with all her childish innocence and blind faith in her big brother, believed that Ryou could do anything. He had never felt as powerless as on the pedestal he had done nothing to deserve. "She died."

"Your mother or your sister?"

Ryou found himself smiling at the question. The smile was small and forlorn, and he let his hair fall on his face to cover it. Now was indeed the time to spill. He hadn't expected Bakura to be sensitive enough to add anything like "if you don't mind me asking" and that wasn't a problem. Ryou didn't mind him asking. "Both."

The hand moved from Ryou's shoulder, past the hair and to the back of his neck, the thumb soothing the skin there. Ryou felt something wet fall down his cheek and hurried to wipe it off with his sleeve, finding some comfort in the odd gesture Bakura seemed to be so fond of. If Bakura had a thing for necks, Ryou wasn't about to question it.

"You know…" Ryou trailed off for a bit, frowning. Another tear was wiped away and Ryou was reminded why he didn't talk about his family. "There was something strange about the murder this time." He didn't check if Bakura was 

still listening. "It was… just sloppy. I mean it wasn't as neat as it… should be." For once, talking about the more morbid side of his work made him feel better. "Some of my coworkers noticed, too."

"That obvious, huh?"

A small laugh escaped him, "Heh, yeah…" The thumb had stopped stroking his skin, and after making sure he was no longer crying, Ryou dared a peek at Bakura. The man looked so serious, almost glaring at the air before him, and Ryou was left staring. As if sensing the other's stare, Bakura turned his dark eyes on Ryou, his mouth tilting into a smirk.

"Do you think it was done by the same person?" Bakura asked, his voice matching his expression. The hairs on Ryou's arms stood up as a shiver ran through him. The more time Ryou spend with Bakura, the more he realized how little he knew about the man. He had discovered some new sides of Bakura's personality but none of his finds had made him feel this _nervous_, a hair's width from scared.

"N-no, I-I…" This was a bad time to stutter. Ryou wetted his lips and tried again. "There are some people who don't _want _to believe it's done by someone else. They're scared." It didn't help matters that the man had worked for KaibaCorp. and the press would be even less eager to overlook the murder.

Bakura stopped, pulling Ryou to a halt with him. He guided Ryou to face him, pulling the other closer and clearing away the rest of the veiling hair.

"I don't care about that. What do _you_ think?"

The eyes bored into Ryou's, intense and curious. What was the question again? It took some effort for Ryou to think straight. "I-I think?" That question should have been a statement and for a moment, Ryou wondered what the answer was. Right now, it was a definite 'maybe'. "I, um…" He wished he could close his eyes and take a few breaths but knew that once his eyes closed, he would lean forward and his answer would be lost to memory. "I don't think it was him. This may sound stupid to you but he's more skilled than that and… and…" Ryou tilted his head a little, drawn in. The first real kiss between them had been initiated by Bakura and had been too _chaste_. "…the way it was done this time was just… _disgraceful_," he whispered against Bakura's lips.

* * *

Hiroto slowed down long before he reached Ryou's building. He was sure that was where he would find his friend, locket up in the small apartment. Where else could Ryou go?

As much as Hiroto wanted to make things right, the truth was that he was no expert in dealing with emotional people. Back in the day, he had punched a few to get them together but that didn't seem like the ideal method in this case. He wouldn't be able to bring himself to hit Ryou either way.

He had learned other ways of making people feel better but that didn't mean he wasn't awkward about it. His most used method was just sitting there making sure the other didn't do anything stupid or self-destructive. Sometimes he would bring food or take Ryou out to eat. The idiot often forgot to eat when burdened by worries, work, or his personal favorite, work related worries.

Hiroto knew Ryou was made of tougher stuff than most people but lately the other just seemed fragile. Maybe it was the new case, maybe the lifestyle of work and next to no social life. Hiroto believed it to be a mixture of both and that loneliness played a big part in it. Ryou knew a lot about people, especially about the darker side of them, but he had trouble getting to know people, as in befriending them.

Though, Hiroto supposed that the latest addition to Ryou's life was a good thing. If that artist guy, Mikazuki or whatever, could make Ryou crawl out of his shell, he couldn't be all that bad, despite how Ryou had described him as "annoying". Hiroto had had no idea Ryou found being annoying an attractive quality… Whatever made the other happy, he guessed, but if the bastard hurt Ryou he would be in for some ass-kicking.

Turning a corner, Hiroto shoved his hands in his pockets, his gaze traveling to the pavement. He didn't know what he would do or say when he got to Ryou. He didn't even know what the problem was and he would only find out if Ryou felt like sharing. Caring about someone sure was difficult.

His eyes rose at the muffled sound coming from somewhere in front of him. What was meant as a short glance turned into a surprised stare when recognition tapped him on the shoulder. Was that Ryou pressed against the wall while having his face sucked off? It had to be. Hiroto had never witnessed Ryou being intimate with anyone and now that he did, he didn't like the feeling it welled up in his chest. What to say was no longer a problem as a yell came out before he could think it through.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

The pair broke apart but it seemed to be just because Ryou pushed the other off. Hiroto ignored Ryou's blush and startled look while he took a good look at the unknown male. He could guess who it was but seeing the self-satisfied smirk, he took back everything positive he had thought about the guy. Ryou had been right; this person annoyed him already.

"H-Honda?" Ryou choked out, drawing the attention back to him. "What are you… why are you… Are you angry?"

The question Ryou settled on was rather stupid. "What are you doing, in the middle of a street? I thought you were sad or distressed or… something!" Maybe he was being a bit unreasonable. He should be glad that Ryou was ok but the bastard still had a hand up his shirt! "Stop trying to molest him while we're having a conversation!" The outburst got no reaction, the damnable smirk never fading.

"You came looking for me?" Ryou asked, like he hadn't been expecting Honda to come, and, getting rid of the hand, moved farther away from his companion, the blush starting to fade.

"Well of course I did!"

Ryou flinched and Hiroto felt a bit bad. He had thought that Ryou was troubled and might need his help but instead he had found his friend making out with _that guy_, without a care in the world. Though, if he looked more closely, he could see that Ryou's eyes were a little redder than usual. He looked away from Ryou so he wouldn't have to see his face, focusing on the third one present again. The guy glanced at Ryou before narrowing his eyes at Hiroto. The glare wasn't appreciated.

"What are you looking at?" Hiroto demanded but when the other's lips curled up to reveal a set of teeth in a grin that would have made a lesser man run, he lost some of his demeanor.

"I would appreciate if you _stopped yelling_." The two final words were hissed and Hiroto could swear that some of those teeth were sharper than they were supposed to be. Great, his friend was dating a vampire.

"I-I don't care what you 'appreciate'…" Hiroto managed but it came out much weaker than he would have liked. The grin settled down to a smug smirk, and as much as that irritated him, he was also grateful.

"Of course you don't. I'm sure Ryou wouldn't mind _talking_ things through, whatever your problem is." The male pocketed his hands, the glare from before turning into some unique brand of casual mockery. "Really now, I'm surprised that you didn't barge in banging your chest with your fists while throwing sticks at Me."

Hiroto could feel his blood starting to boil, the only thing keeping him from kicking some arrogant ass was the malicious look burned into his memory. That, and Ryou stepping in.

"Please, Honda, Bakura, don't fight." Ryou gave both _a look_. Ryou wasn't aware he had one but the look had a hint of pleading mixed with something stern that, more often than not, made people do as the soft spoken male requested. "I'm sorry I made you worry, Honda, but that's not Bakura's fault so please, don't take it out on him." Ryou smiled a bit as quilt showed on Hiroto's face, "And don't let him get to you, he'll just enjoy taunting you more."

"You would know," the annoying one threw at Ryou with a smirk, earning a muttered "shut up".

Hiroto watched the exchange. Now that the initial anger was gone, he felt a bit awkward and out of place. He had never heard Ryou tell anyone to 'shut up'. "So um…"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot this is the first time you've met," Ryou piped up, clearing his throat. "Honda, this is Mikazuki Bakura," he made a gesture towards the one in question. "Bakura, meet my friend Honda Hiroto."

Hiroto nodded, trying not to let Mikazuki's unending smirk get to him. "I've heard so much about you."

"Oh? Interesting how I've heard _nothing_ about you, isn't it?"

Hiroto clenched his teeth, hissing out a curt "Indeed."

The arrogant ass ignored any tone Hiroto might have had. Why did Ryou even like the guy was beyond him. Did Ryou like the overconfidence and the lack of manners? He guessed the male was good-looking and successful but he didn't think Ryou was that shallow. Hiroto had seen some of the guys Ryou had dated before and whenever he had asked about them, the answer had been about the same.

"_You are? So… What's he like, then?"_

"_Oh he's nice." _

And that's what they had been; nice. Ryou had said many things about this Mikazuki Bakura and none of them had been "nice". In times like this when Ryou was troubled but didn't talk about it, not to him, Hiroto wondered he was just "nice", too.

"Your friend seems _nice_."

It was loud for a whisper so Hiroto could hear it and he was sure he was supposed to. His eyes focused on the pair in front of him. Ryou frowned at the whisperer whose attitude was too damn condescending. Hiroto pocked his hand so he could clench it into a fist without Ryou seeing. If Ryou liked this guy, he could deal with it.

"Bakura," Hiroto addressed Ryou, throwing the other "Bakura" a dirty look, daring him to react. The look was left to its own value, which was next to nothing if the reaction was anything to go by. Hiroto decided to play ignorant, too, keeping his attention on Ryou instead. "If you want to talk about what happened…"

Ryou started to fiddle with his sleeve, looking all around uncomfortable. "Actually… if neither of you minds, I'd like to go home now…"

Hiroto was about to speak, to ask why, when he noticed the first frown on Mikazuki's face he had seen. The smirk was but a memory and there was something on his face that Hiroto almost mistook as worry. There was no way it could be worry. Wanting to know how the man would handle this, Hiroto shut up and watched.

"Do you want Me to come with you?"

Ryou shook his head a little. "No, that's alright. I'm… I'm a bit tired, so…" He looked down. Hiroto's eyes narrowed. This was the kind of awkwardness Ryou showed when he was lying. Hiroto glanced at Mikazuki to see if he noticed anything off.

"Hmm, I'll let you get away with that lie just this once, Ryou-muffin, but the next time you won't be so lucky."

Judging from everything, he had. 'Ryou-muffin', though?

Ryou blinked, turning pink. "You called me that just because Honda is here, didn't you?" he asked, accusing. "And I really am tired, just so you know." He turned to Hiroto next. The corners of his mouth tilted upwards but didn't stick that way for long; faking it must take a lot of energy. "I'll see you tomorrow at work."

"But Ryou, you-!" Hiroto moved to stop his friend from just walking out on him but he was yanked back. He had forgotten for a second that there was a third person present and now the fact just pissed him off. "What are you-?!"

"Running after someone who wants to be alone isn't the best idea," the other told, sounding harsh compared to his former way of talking. The hand holding Hiroto back had strength to it that he hadn't expected to be there. The way the other held himself gave him an image of power but Hiroto had thought that it was all show kept up by someone whose chosen weapon was a paintbrush.

"What would you know?" He jerked himself free but didn't go after Ryou who had disappeared from view. He would never admit on taking the advice even though that was what he was doing.

"I know a lot of things," the artist told with a shrug. "But I also have stuff I need to go do. It was _wonderful_ meeting you, Ryou's friend."

Hiroto tried his best not to get annoyed again. "Honda." Whatever irritation he might have showed despite his efforts got waved off as the other walked away to do "stuff". The stuff just happened to be in the same direction Ryou had gone to.

"Damn."

* * *

Review and I'll give you…

a response!


	10. to never tell the truth

**A/N: **A lot of Malik in this chapter. I think he's a bit attracted to Bakura. Poor guy xD Not sure if they're in friendly terms or not 0.o I'm proud to announce that only a fraction of the things I planned on putting in this chapter actually ended up in to the chapter. Funny how these things work, no?

* * *

**Shattered Crescent**

Part Ten

The gray sky reflected off the huge glass windows of the buildings surrounding him. It was as if the tall constructions were put there just to block a passersby's view of any recognizable landmark. Malik realized that he wasn't sure where he was anymore. He hadn't been paying attention. Knowing that he looked like a tourist, he dug out a map.

Footsteps disturbed the gray quiet and Malik, seeing that he had no idea if the street even had a name, glanced over his map. As he spotted the figure moving closer, he thought he had ran into Bakura again. The person had his head bowed so Malik couldn't make out his features but the pose didn't scream the confidence he had learned to associate with his annoying acquaintance. But even though it was clear now that this person wasn't Bakura, Malik knew who he was. He had seen his pictures in the paper and on the news.

Bakura Ryou.

Malik smirked but made sure to fix it into a friendly smile as the other approached. "Hey, could you help me?"

Bakura Ryou looked up from the pavement and it was clear that his mind had been elsewhere. He slowed his pace, stopping more than an arm's length from Malik. He stared at Malik for a bit before his lips turned upwards into something fake, meant to be polite.

"Oh, um… Sure." His eyes trailed to the map. "Are you lost?"

Malik scratched the back of his head, an awkward gesture he believed. He wondered if he should be worried about the stare, about how long it had took for the smile to form. "Yes, actually… Can you show me where I am?" He held out the map. The gesture wasn't threatening but the other glanced between Malik and the map a few times before taking hold of one corner of the map.

The other's concentration on the map gave Malik a chance to study him. There had to be some reason why Bakura had put so much time and effort into getting this man's attention. Malik couldn't see what was so special about Bakura Ryou. From what he had seen so far, the slight male was rather meek, even boring.

"Ah yes. We're right here," he pointed at a spot and Malik leaned in to take a closer look. "The police station is over there," he gestured, "and if it weren't for those buildings, you'd see the KaibaCorp. building."

The map was handed back and Malik took his time studying it before fixing his eyes on the other, smiling. "Thank you, I don't know what I would have done of you hadn't come along. These streets get so confusing." He laughed, noticing how the smile he got back was a little strained, a bit tired.

"It was no problem."

They spent a moment keeping up their smiles.

Malik tucked away the map. His face muscles were starting to ache. "Well, thanks again." His focus on getting a way and past the other, Malik jumped at the hand on his arm. The soft touch left him before he could jerk away. He raised his eyebrow at the other, determined to keep his cool no matter what this was about.

"You're Malik Ishtar, aren't you?"

His mask came close to failing him when the careful question reached his ears. This time, Bakura Ryou's smile was sad.

"Your sister is looking for you. Don't leave her worrying for too long."

Malik frowned and opened his mouth to speak but by the time he figured out what to say, he was facing the other's retreating back. He stared at the direction the man had gone, unsure of what to think anymore. Had he been found out?

Questions of 'what' and 'why' stormed his mind. With a mention of his own name and sister, Malik had been brought to near panic. The situation was ridiculous. But if his sister was here and his disappearance was common knowledge, he didn't have much time. He wasn't a big fan of the rash and unplanned but he would have to speed things up if he wanted them done.

Too deep in thought to notice anything off, Malik was caught off guard by a soft whisper right beside his ear.

"Boo."

The whisper made the fine hairs in the nape of his neck stand. A hand landed on the shoulder that was connected to the arm of his knife hand and when he snapped his head to the side, his nose almost brushed Bakura's. This time, he knew it wasn't a case of mistook identity. Seeing the conceited smirk from such close proximity made his breath hitch.

"Fancy meeting you here, Malik. You met Ryou, I assume."

"Y-you," he cursed himself for stammering, "You were following him?"

The smirk showed a bit of teeth, and for a second, the gesture didn't look at all unattractive. "If I said I just happened to be heading to the same direction, would you believe me?"

Frustrated by his own reaction, Malik pulled himself free and put more distance between them. Bakura must have noticed: he wouldn't look as amused if he hadn't.

"Though, what I really want to know is if you have something to do with the people missing from Devil's Lair."

Malik snorted, forcing his mask into one of confidence, still conscious about his slip mere seconds ago. "If I said no, would you believe me?" he threw back a near copy of Bakura's earlier question but despite how it was indented to be mocking, bitterness leaked into his tone. Today was not his day. He needed to get back on top of things; a feat far easier to accomplish without Bakura.

"I think we need to have a small chat," the aforementioned man spoke. "Do you eat or drink, Ishtar?"

* * *

Ryou had used enough fake smiles not to mistake them for the real thing. However polite Malik Ishtar might be, his smile lacked warmth. Ryou wasn't sure what else was misplaced in the younger Ishtar.

He closed the door behind him, dropping his things on to the floor. Ishizu Ishtar's number lay somewhere on his living room coffee table, he remembered as he flopped on the couch, letting his eyes fall shut. He was too tired to call now, not finding a reason from his exhausted mind to do so. Malik Ishtar was an adult and looked fine enough. He should inform Miss Ishtar that her brother was alright, though. He had promised.

To his surprise, sleep hadn't taken over the second he closed his eyes. Why did Honda and Bakura have to make such a scene? Protectiveness he could understand and had come to accept, but Honda had overreacted. What Bakura and he did in private was their business.

Though, on the street wasn't private… Ryou smiled a little despite himself. He had enjoyed it, the "private" moment with Bakura. For that moment, he had been able to forget work and the memories it provoked and focus on the body heat of another human being. He hadn't felt anything like that in what seemed like forever. He hadn't even realized that he needed to.

Ryou cracked his eyes open before he could fall asleep on the couch. The coffee table was almost buried beneath all the paperwork and as much as he liked to keep his home tidy, he just couldn't find the energy to clear the table. The up coming weekend felt like the ideal time to do some cleaning, though.

He pushed himself off the backrest, leaning forward to search for the phone number. The number was printed on a slab of cardboard, not easy to find but he managed. He also found his sticky notes and his tired brain had the brilliant idea of writing a few notes. After a couple of "Sleep more" and "Buy more milk", the yellow notes ran out and he was forced to use pink ones.

On his way to the bedroom, because he did need to sleep more, he stuck a "Call I. Ishtar in the morning"-note on the doorframe. One of the notes that reminded him to make Honda worry less was clued on the bathroom mirror.

The bed wasn't made so he could just fall on it. The soft bed sheets felt cold and uncomfortable. As Ryou tried to drift to sleep, he found the idea of reading another chapter of his book more appealing. If he remembered right, the main character had just reached some crisis and was struggling to overcome it. One chapter turned into several; he didn't feel like sleeping anymore. Sleeping led to dreaming and dreaming led to nightmares.

When rain started to rattle against the window, he wrote down a quick reminder to invite Bakura over sometime.

* * *

"So, I take it that you also had something to do with the poor being near the train station?"

"Ah, that…" His drink needed more sugar. "Only indirectly." Done stirring the brown liquid, Malik faced Bakura again. "Some people just aren't as trustworthy as they first seem and if you are going to get rid of someone in this town…" he let the sentence die out. Despite the homey atmosphere in the café, or because of it, Malik felt on edge. Bakura had mentioned that he liked the place. There had to be something wrong with it.

Bakura snorted, unimpressed. "So you screwed up and needed to make things _right_. Amateur."

Malik laughed at the poor insult, hoping that his true feelings stayed out of sight. "Do you think _Ryou_ will notice?" It was difficult to tell if he had hit or missed the target. Maybe he shouldn't have brought the investigator up at all… Only a fool antagonized a guy who killed on a whim.

"He already did," Bakura told, as if he was proud. "He has this strange way of knowing things…" The hint of a smirk that followed made the other's features look less twisted for once. "But you should know, Malik," Bakura continued, the twisted quality making a roaring comeback, "that I don't take kindly to anyone who upsets him."

Without noticing, Malik gripped his coffee cup tighter. He held up his superior front, smirking like he wasn't faced by the clear threat. "I'm guessing you don't 'upset' him with your killing spree, then."

Bakura waved the notion off. "I prefer the term 'supply hunt', and honestly, I think he's enjoying it."

Malik's eyebrow rose. "Really?" Even though he didn't know much about Bakura Ryou, he doubted he enjoyed death and chaos; few people did, so Malik was left wondering Bakura's reasoning, or lack there of. Either the man was plain crazy or he knew something about Bakura Ryou that Malik didn't.

"Of course, he'd never admit it, but he's a smart guy. Most people he has to deal with are _stupid_," Bakura spat the word out and from what Malik could gather, it was the worst kind of insult.

"Right…" The less he knew about the other's thought pattern, the better. He had his own mental and physical health to look after, and despite of what Bakura might want to believe, Malik couldn't be grouped with "the stupid". "The way I see it, these people are already scared and sick of lunatics running around, killing their neighbors, so unless they have to, they won't believe that there's more than one… lunatic." All worries of not choosing his words right disappeared when Bakura smirked, resting his head on his palm.

"Funny, _he_ said something like that, too." It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who Bakura spoke of. "Regardless, I don't want the _glory_ when you did such a sloppy job." The man leaned closer, and had Malik been someone else, he would have turned his eyes away and backed off. "You," Bakura poked Malik's nose with the finger of his free hand, "don't respect My art."

For a second, Malik almost believed that the other was coming on to him. One could hardly blame him for thinking so, given some of the actions that had led them to sit in a café together. The hateful part of him wanted to stab Bakura's invading hand onto the table. "Isn't copying the sincerest form of flattery?"

Much to his relief, Malik had managed to keep his voice steady and disinterested, and Bakura leaned back on his chair, withdrawing his hand. The smirk got more conceited, a gesture that made Malik angrier than it should have.

"Only when it's done well," Bakura pointed out and Malik had to agree.

"What are you going to do about it?"

Bakura took his sweet time answering. He drank some of his coffee and Malik realized that was the first time he touched it. "I don't need to do much. Kaiba knows about you and your dear sister has practically found you already." He focused on his drink again before meeting Malik's eyes. "She came to ask Me about you not so long ago." The smirk widened a fraction as Malik shifted on his seat. "Looks like you're neck deep in brown substance without My interference."

Malik doubted the man had just sat watching things unfold but he didn't need to be told he was in deep shit. He was wasting time sitting here entertaining Bakura. He had more important things to do and surely Bakura would rather be stalking his police sweetheart than sipping coffee. He wasn't running away from the uncomfortable situation he was just… in a hurry.

"I think we both have better things to do." Malik forced on a dry smile, "Always a pleasure dealing with you." He didn't mean a word of it. The truthful parting words were something along the lines of "I want to kill you until you're dead."

Bakura gave a slow nod. "Likewise."

Malik, well on his way to the door, turned before exiting. "You will take care of the check, won't you?"

* * *

Even though Ryou had decided to just close his eyes for a bit, he had soon dozed off, last night taking its toll. In his sleep against the hard surface of the desk, he could hear someone calling his name.

"Bakura? Hey, Bakura? Ryou!"

His eyes opened as he lifted his head enough to see what was going on. That hadn't been the voice of his dreams. The dream voice was always more desperate.

Ryou blinked at the blurry image of his friend. "Oh… Morning Honda…" The image sharpened as his brain woke up with the rest of his body. He could see that other shake his head.

"It's afternoon. You sure you should be here?"

As Ryou lifted his head, he realized he had a piece of paper stuck on his cheek. It was one of the pink sticky notes he had started using when the yellow ones had ran out.

"Yes, I-," he paused to peal the note off and stuck it on the desk instead. "I'm fine." The small, pink paper glared at him with almost as much intensity as Honda did. It read "Call I. Ishtar in the morning." He realized that he couldn't always answer with "I'm fine" without getting suspicious. Honda had started seeing right through it a long time ago.

"Look, if things are going down hill-"

Ryou stood up, interrupting the on-coming lecture. "I need to make a phone call." Next time, he would just say that he was feeling 'super'.

He waited for Miss Ishtar to pick up, standing outside the front doors to get some fresh air. The rain last night had cooled the wind so it now had more bite to it. Ryou was glad to be wearing his sweater when Miss Ishtar didn't pick up during the first four rings. He was just about to give up and call again later when the occasional 'beep' was replaced with the sound of a deep breath and a female voice.

"_Did you meet Malik?_"

The question threw him off. "Um, I…" It wasn't "Did you _find_ Malik?" but "meet", like the woman didn't expect her brother to be returned. "Yes, I met him. I don't know where he's now but… He seemed to be alright," Ryou told. "I just wanted to let you know so you wouldn't have to worry so much." Worrying tended to wear people down fast. He could almost hear Honda's voice telling that so did stress and lack of sleep.

"_Thank you. …Did you mention me?_"

Ryou had to think back before answering. "I did. He…" Maybe he shouldn't mention anything further. The younger Ishtar had been surprised Ryou had recognized him but underneath it all, he had looked frightened, tense. As if his lifeline had become too thin to keep together.

"_I don't expect him to be happy that I'm tailing him._"

Miss Ishtar didn't beat around the bush, the statement formal and straight to the point. Ryou knew nothing about the circumstances of Malik Ishtar's disappearance but there was something, a lot of things, that didn't quite feel right. He paused to choose his words, deciding that it would be better if he didn't poke his nose into this one. "Miss Ishtar… Missing people aren't really my field. I deal with homicide so searching for your brother…"

"_I understand. The dead are often easier to deal with than the living._"

Ryou frowned, though aware that Miss Ishtar couldn't see it.

"_But it's the living you should watch out for, Bakura Ryou, especially the ones you let close to your heart._"

"Let close to my…?" The conversation was getting off topic. His emotional life had nothing to do with Malik Ishtar. The words sounded too much like a warning. He didn't like it.

"_It pains me to sit by and watch but no one can change the path chosen for them._"

This time, a white eyebrow rose, a sign of disbelief but also that he had been spending too much time with Bakura. The other was starting to sound like a religious fanatic. "Um, yes… I should get back to work now." He wasn't sure what he had been doing before he had fallen asleep. It could have been important…

"_Of course. Give Mr. Mikazuki my best regards._"

It took a while for the words to register. "Wha-?" He had gotten the impression that Miss Ishtar wasn't too fond of Bakura. "Sure… Bye then."

Ryou stared at the cell phone after hanging up. Was it just him or was Ishizu Ishtar a little bit scary?

* * *

I can't think of a discreet way to ask you to review…


	11. a moment of peace

**A/N: **So… Why is the spam report thingy right next to the review reply button anyway? I've almost reported several people just because of that… I'm just trying to distract you from the fact that it took me _a month_ to update this again. "A moment of peace" is a title that promises a dull and boring chapter, right? Well, you won't be disappointed. I sort of ran out of steam near the end.

* * *

**Shattered Crescent**

Part Eleven

The painting in the paper bag was the one '_Evening Domino_' had contributed to. Bakura was sure Ryou would like it. Maybe the gift would grant him some of the more involved kissing. If only they hadn't been interrupted the last time…

That person, what-was-his-name, Ryou's friend was nothing to worry about. Sure he seemed protective and he would probably have to answer to him if he ever even looked at Ryou the wrong way but he could handle it. He didn't plan to hurt Ryou but he wasn't delusional enough to think that he could avoid doing so. It was in his nature.

Bakura hummed a little as he walked. The sun had set behind the buildings and the streets were dimly lit against the darkness. Night was a good time to be out and about.

In the light of a flickering streetlamp, a figure stood by the front door of Ryou's building. The man lifted his hand to open the door only to shove the hand back into his pocket again. Walking closer and stopping behind the man, Bakura recognized him and after digging his brain for a name, he realized that this was the cop friend of Ryou's. The one whose name he had forgotten the moment it had been told to him. It had something to do with automobiles… And to think, he had just finished thinking about the guy.

Think of the devil and he shall block your path, apparently.

"If you're not going in, step aside so I can," Bakura addressed 'Ryou's friend' who snapped out of the indecisive state he had been in. He turned to face Bakura at top speed, startled, and his frown deepened.

"Oh it's you," 'Ryou's friend' said with poorly hid disdain. "Mikazuki, right? Here to see Bakura?"

"_Ryou_? Yup." Bakura shifted his weight and pocketed his free hand. It was his knife pocket but he swore it was accidental; he would have put his hand in his pocket even if the paper bag had been in his other hand. He played with the idea of blood spill while his thumb stroked the switch blade handle. The thought was stupid and reckless and easy to push aside.

"You know," 'Ryou's friend' started carefully, as though he had noticed some of the thought flash on Bakura's face. "It's better if you go in there." He jerked his head towards the door behind him. "He really likes you."

Bakura raised a brow at the reluctant confession. "What makes you think so?"

The other smiled. "He doesn't think you're nice." He laughed a few barks. Bakura felt like he had missed the connection between Ryou liking him and not thinking him nice but the other waved the whole thing off. "Never mind, it's just something… never mind."

When you're told to 'never mind' twice, you do as you're told.

'Ryou's friend' stepped away from the door, his face becoming harder again as Bakura moved to go in. "I punched the lights out of this one asshole he was unlucky to go out with once."

"Is that so?" Bakura faced the other to receive the threat he was sure would come.

"Ryou got mad at me, said he could've done it himself."

The small tale took a second to register as it wasn't what Bakura had been expecting. He chuckled, throwing the other a grin. "So, 'hurt him and he'll fuck you up', then?"

'Ryou's friend' smirked back. "Something like that, yeah."

* * *

Ryou padded to his door, rubbing the rest of the sleep from his eyes. He felt like he had gotten next to no sleep after getting home from work. The clock on the living room wall he glanced at told that he had hit the bunk about two hours ago.

He unlocked the door and peeked out. His first reaction was a blank stare, then he became very aware of his tangled up hair, wrinkled T-shirt and old pajama bottoms. His face heated up.

"Er… Bakura, what- What are you doing here?" He looked horrid and his apartment was a mess. Not a good time for visitors.

Bakura looked him up and down, raising a brow. "I'm here to see your ever-so gorgeous self, of course."

Ryou was sure he was blushing now, but whether it was out of embarrassment or anger, he couldn't tell. "If you're here just to make fun of me…"

"No, no," Bakura told. "I'm here to cheer you up, honest." He smirked and Ryou found himself smiling back. He was too tired to figure out why. "You looked so down the last time we parted."

"Um, well, I was… just…" What was he trying to say? "I'm sorry if I made you worry."

The other waved it off and Ryou noticed that he had something with him. "I can't say I was worried. I just don't want you to be miserable."

The blush never had the chance to fade. "I wasn't-"

"Shush, I have something for you," Bakura interrupted. The flash of irritation was forgotten as a painting was peeled from the brown bag. Ryou blinked at the painting, mouth falling slightly open. He recognized the painting from before; it was the forest one he had liked. Among the pretty brown, red had been added to bring out a form he hadn't noticed before. A skeleton figure reached out for a small, winged spot of light and as its fingers and hands entered the light's aura, flesh and skin began to grow on them to cover the pinkish white bone.

"Ah, well, I…" Once again, Ryou was unsure what to say. Nothing sensible came to mind. He wondered if it was just him or did Bakura have that effect on people.

"Do you like it?"

"I do… It's beautiful." Ryou reached out after a moment of hesitation, hands shaking despite his efforts to keep them steady. His fingers curled around the edges and he pulled the piece of art to him, holding it close. He offered Bakura a small smile, which was accepted and returned, the flash of a smile short and barely there, though.

"So, can I come in?"

Ryou was hesitant because he wanted to go back to sleep but Bakura didn't wait for his answer. The other slipped past him into the apartment and Ryou was left staring into the empty hallway. The next door neighbor greeted him twice before he had the sense to close the door. He liked Bakura's company but this was a bit much. You didn't just walk right into someone's home, acting like you owned the place.

He located Bakura getting comfortable on his couch in the living room. The man must have seen his irritated expression. "Did I come at a bad time?"

Ryou's eyes narrowed to tinier slits. "Isn't that something you ask _before_ marching right in?"

Bakura seemed to think it through before shrugging it off. He patted the spot next to him and sighed when Ryou didn't budge. "Come sit, you look ready to fall asleep standing."

"I don't sleep too well nowadays," Ryou admitted, standing on his spot a moment longer before giving in. He placed the painting he realized he still clung to leaning against the wall and sat next to Bakura, huffing away his irritation and leaning against the other's shoulder.

"You poor thing." Bakura's other hand, which rested on the backrest behind Ryou, started playing with his hair. "Would I be too far off if I said it has something to do with your job?"

Ryou closed his eyes, just for a bit he told himself. "You guess well…"

"Hm, I know."

The petting of his hair and the even sound of the other's breathing lulled him into a sense of peace that made his eyelids heavier. Bakura said something but Ryou could no longer hear it, too far gone. He snuggled into the other before sleep took over.

* * *

_His mother's arms wrapped around him and kept him safe. Her soft words turned into a tune he didn't recognize but it was her voice all the same that soothed him deeper into the darkness. Any light would be too bright. Despite the calm, something was amiss. He couldn't remember why he had been sad. Everything was too perfect. He looked up to ask his mother but her eyes weren't hers anymore._

"_Bakura…" _

* * *

The obnoxious ring tone he had chosen in a moment of stupidity brought Ryou out of his dream. Someone huffed in annoyance against his neck and he found that he wasn't just being held, he was half lied on.

"Don't answer it," Bakura breathed into his ear and Ryou was tempted to take that advice but…

"It could be work, I have to." Whenever they called him after hours, the news was always bad. Ryou reached for his phone, making a couple of papers fall from the table before his fingers came to contact with the obnoxious ringing devise. "Hello? Bakura Ryou speaking." He felt more than heard Bakura sigh, the warm breath distracting him.

"_Sorry to disturb you but the chief said to give you a heads-up._"

Even though Bakura's body heat was still there, Ryou felt a chill. The other had gone still, too, and Ryou realized that he was listening. Whether or not that was inappropriate, Ryou couldn't decide on the spot so he let it go unmentioned.

"_We found a new body. Some people from Evening Domino are here, asking for you so… don't come unless you want to be harassed._"

"How come they know about the victim already?" He didn't mean to sound angry. Maybe Bakura shouldn't be listening on the call.

"_Well, apparently the victim was one of their colleagues. He had missed a few days of work and a coworker… a photographer went for a visit and found… well, everyone will see it in tomorrow's issue._"

Ryou closed his eyes to contain his frustration. Figures it would be a photographer… "Is it… I mean, the victim, is he… horrible to look at?" He just hoped the murderer hadn't been creative. The question caused a moment of hesitation.

"…_Not much more horrible than the others._"

Background noise from the other end interrupted any and all further questions he had. He couldn't really make out what the noise was saying but he thought he heard his name somewhere in the mix.

"_Uh, listen, I have to go. The crazy bastards are on to me._"

The caller hung up. Ryou let himself be held for a moment longer. It was a comfort he didn't think he deserved.

"I have to get up."

"Going to the station despite the warnings?"

Ryou shook his head. "Not yet. I need to look at my notes." He wasn't sure how would that help but he needed an excuse to get up and do _something_. He no longer remembered why he was tired in the first place, the reason had lost its meaning and been chased away by the call to get something done. Bakura's arm held him at place and as nice as it was to be held, right now Ryou wanted to get away. "Bakura, please."

"It'll do no good."

"I can't just lie around and do nothing!" Ryou snapped in a spout of anger. The coffee table was still a mess and as long as he was trapped against the couch he could do nothing about it.

"So you want to do something pointless instead," Bakura said, the condescending tone only agitating Ryou more. "I think I you need some more sleep."

"I don't care what you think. I need to- Let me up." It was useless to struggle; if Bakura didn't want him to move, he would stay right where he was. One more thing to his list of things he couldn't control.

Bakura was silent but didn't budge. From the corner of his eye, Ryou saw that the other looked serious, almost insulted. Had he said something wrong? A frustrated sigh escaped him and he closed his eyes to help him calm down. "Why are you so difficult?"

The other snorted. "I'm not the only one."

Ryou rolled his eyes because he knew Bakura couldn't see it. He wasn't difficult, ask anybody! Except maybe Honda since he would probably agree… The annoyed pause ended when Bakura continued. "You said My name while you slept. I thought you were awake but…" He rose to lean on his elbows so he could look Ryou in the eye. "Did you dream of Me?" he grinned, "Was it nice and dirty?"

Despite how the dream had been anything but, Ryou felt his face grow warm. "Nice _and_ dirty…?"

"Yeah. Just out of curiosity, who was on top?"

Ryou swatted at the other from his compromising position. "You're horrible!"

Bakura grinned further. "Oh yes, quite. But that's what you're falling for, isn't it? I'm not nice at all." And then he kissed him, sudden and none too gentle. Ryou didn't have much time to think about his words but he was quite sure he wasn't falling. He was melting.

* * *

Hiroto wondered if letting Mikazuki comfort Ryou had been a good idea. Judging from the short glimpse he had of Ryou that morning… It could be just stress, caused by the latest turn of events, but Ryou looked so worn. If Mikazuki had anything to do with it, Hiroto might just have to strangle him.

He had heard about the new victim, someone had told that he had his hand nailed to a wall. Not a pretty sight. The picture had been on the front page of a special issue of 'Evening Domino'. The police weren't happy about it and the city folk were scared shitless. Hiroto didn't know how Ryou had reacted. He had seen more horrible things but trouble was piling up on him. Ryou didn't react too well to things piling up, Hiroto knew from experience. He felt it his duty to prevent the other from reaching his breaking point but Ryou didn't agree. He dealt with things on his own because that was how it had always been.

Lunch time was ticking by and since his troublesome friend hadn't emerged to go and get something to eat yet, Hiroto decided that he would bring something for him. If he went and asked what Ryou wanted, the other would just say that he wasn't that hungry so the best plan of action was to barge right in and drop the food under his nose. Ryou would eat it because Hiroto had already gone through the trouble of getting it for him.

He passed the missing persons wall and wouldn't have noticed a fallen paper hadn't he stepped on it. The name rang a bell even before he remembered Ryou mentioning it. That Ishtar lady's brother stared at him from the picture. All the Ishtars he had seen had an eerie eye color it seemed but he didn't like the expression in those eyes either. He stuck the ad back onto the wall, making sure it would stay there so he wouldn't run into it again.

Pondering what would Ryou like for lunch, Hiroto headed out. The closest lunch spot wasn't far, which was a good thing that afternoon as the sky threatened with rain. He sighed, watching the heavy clouds roll ahead. Hadn't the weather been bad enough already?

* * *

"Are you Bakura Ryou?"

Ryou's eyes rose from his stuff and found a young man standing by the door with a brown envelope.

"Um, yes… Yes, I am."

"Right, sign here," the man held out a pen and clipboard.

Ryou had no idea who the delivery could be from. The sender was printed on the corner of the envelope. _KaibaCorp_. Ryou frowned and made sure the package was for him, that there hadn't been some mistake. His own name was printed on the brown surface so it was safe to rip open and to pull out the thin file inside. A letter fell out with the file. It was neutral, computer typed and to-the-point.

_Bakura Ryou,_

_The KaibaCorp inner investigation team looked into the case of the murdered employee. The file contains the gathered facts and speculations we want to share with the Domino City Police. We wish You to look through them first. KaibaCorp does not wish to interfere with the police investigation and this information is meant to back up any and all information the police has gathered._

_KaibaCorp management_

Ryou read the letter a couple of times to decide what it meant. Why would they want _him_ to see it first? The "KaibaCorp management", whatever that meant, claimed they didn't want to interfere with the investigation but _this_ was interfering. Just the knowledge that KaibaCorp was interested in the case would have an effect. No one said it out loud but KaibaCorp more or less owned Domino. Many living in the city worked for the company, and the ones who didn't work directly under KaibaCorp, worked for someone who relied on the steady flow of currency KC brought for Domino.

The rest of the contents of the envelope were less formal. The notes were more organized than his and a tad bit more professional. A quick glance over the material didn't reveal anything shocking and Ryou wondered if there was some hidden point in this he couldn't see.

* * *

"I don't see the point in us meddling with the police affairs," Seto informed his brother who had come into the office waving around some papers and told that he had formed something called "KaibaCorp inner investigation team". The fact that even his brother was working behind his back didn't make him too happy.

"I'm not meddling," Mokuba told, sitting down and leaning over the desk like they were involved in a conspiracy. "Listen, some evidence pointed at a couple of guys and their tracks led to an establishment called 'Devil's Lair'."

An eyebrow rose but otherwise Seto made sure to appear as uninterested as he could. "And?"

"I've head of it from Bakura. Not a place for small, unarmed children, his words not mine."

Seto picked up the documents Mokuba threw at his poor defenseless desk. It didn't surprise him that Mikazuki knew something about this. The annoyance said he knew everything and Seto had long ago stopped wasting his energy on doubting him.

"I'm just disappointed that the Domino City Police hasn't figured this out yet," Mokuba continued when his brother didn't comment. "That's why I sent the info to that Bakura Ryou guy first."

Seto 'hmph'ed, not looking up from the papers. "The funny coincidence is that he's also Mikazuki's new play thing."

This was new information to Mokuba, judging by his surprised expression. "You think that has something to do with all this?"

"Wouldn't that be interesting." Though, if Bakura Ryou was the same person he had met at the art exhibition a while back, he couldn't understand what all the fuss was about. If he ever found the time, Seto decided to go see for himself what was so special about the boy.

* * *

Reviews make my heart go on and on.


	12. the place far away

**A/N: **I sure took my sweet time, didn't I? I have several reasons and excuses but I won't bore you with them. I have already started writing the next chapter but I can't promise you that I'll update faster because if I do, I'll just fail at updating again. I'm not too happy about this chapter but that might be just because I've worked on it for so long. Also, it's horribly short.

* * *

**Shattered Crescent**

Part Twelve

When Ryou walked out of his office, he came face to chest with someone in a neat, and expensive, business suit. He blinked, getting ready to apologize, and wondered if he would dare to look up but that was solved for him when the man spoke.

"Bakura Ryou, I assume."

The cold statement made Ryou's eyes jump up to meet a pair of icy blue ones. He knew that if given time to think, he would recognize the person. "Oh," was the first thing that came out of his mouth before he realized it didn't sound too intelligent. "I mean, yes. I'm Bakura Ryou. You are, um…"

"Kaiba Seto," the man told.

"I knew that," Ryou replied, feeling every bit as stupid as the other must have thought he was. "We met once before, at Bakura's art exhibit." As if there was someone in Domino who didn't know who Kaiba Seto was.

Kaiba nodded. "You were the one Mikazuki was entertaining."

Ryou smiled a little, deciding against correcting the other. At the time, Bakura's advances had felt more like harassment. "And you were the one he was supposed to entertain. I'm sorry I kept him from you."

"Apology accepted."

A moment of silence followed as Ryou waited for Kaiba to tell why he was there but when the other just kept studying him, he took matters into his own hands. "Um, well, I was just about to run an errand and I'm sure you're a busy man so… Mind telling me why you're here?"

"I wanted to see for myself what the fuss was all about."

Ryou didn't quite follow. "Pardon?"

"You have helped solve some of the more serious crimes in Domino and now you're at it again. It's all over the papers." Kaiba didn't look all too happy about that and Ryou could sympathize with him. "And you're managed to date Mikazuki for a few weeks, which is probably the longest relationship he has ever had. Also, my brother seems to think there's something special about you." Kaiba stopped his list to smirk. "Personally, I don't see how he gets the impression."

Ryou was struck down before having a chance to feel flattered or confused. He knew he was nothing special but that coming from someone who didn't even know him made his blood boil. "I guess you're a good judge of that since we've met twice already and had such a long conversation the first time."

Kaiba's expression told that people didn't normally stand up for themselves when confronted by his superior status and insulting skills.

"So, excuse me, I have things to do." Ryou stepped past Kaiba and turned to go behind a corner before he could realize what he had just said and to whom and his polite nature forced him to go back and apologize. He could regret running off later.

Around the corner and little ways down the hall was the chief of investigation's office. The file KaibaCorp had sent him had sat on his desk long enough and he had read it through enough times to realize where the police had gone wrong.

The older man didn't seem too happy about KC contacting them when Ryou got told to sit down after explaining why he was there.

"Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" the chief asked, sitting behind his large wooden desk, not as unreachable as some people Ryou seen but angrier than he should be.

"Well, the letter said-," Ryou paused to dig out the slip of paper and hand it over. "It says that I should look at these first… so I did."

"I don't see why," the older man muttered as he read the letter through, "…don't want to interfere my ass…"

Ryou cleared his throat. "They did help us."

The man gave him a look from under his brows as if to say that the comment wasn't appreciated. He said nothing out loud, just placed the file into a drawer before turning to face Ryou properly. "I'll make sure everyone who needs to know sees it, you go back to work."

* * *

There had been an accident, something wrong with the driver and an immovable, hard object. That much Seto could recall while trying to focus his gaze to see if that blur slumped against the steering wheel was the man who wasn't supposed to screw up while driving.

Air came to him in short gasps that did no good. Mokuba always told him to wear a seatbelt. He coughed and felt as if he could fill his lungs with air after a decade of depriving himself of it. The first ounce of air got through just when the door on his side was opened. Someone stranded his lap and a cold blade was pressed against his throat before he could gather his wits. With the air returned his vision.

"Why can't you die like a good boy?"

The question was rhetorical and mocking but Seto had an answer to it. The answer came in the form of the mouth of his gun against his assaulter's gut. A smirk tipped his lips upwards as he got a good look at the other's pale purple eyes.

"Malik Ishtar," he stated, giving the boy points for just raising an eyebrow at his gun. "I expected more of you."

The Ishtar kid returned the smirk. "Sorry to disappoint."

Already tired of the chit-chat, Seto decided to cut to the point, mindful of his words. "I don't see why you would want to avenge him. I thought it was a suicide, you can't blame me for that."

Malik's eye twitched either because he was nervous or running out of patience. "You're responsible for his downfall," he accused. "I didn't come here for a chat, I-"

"Which caused all sort of trouble, not the least of all to _you_," Seto interrupted. He moved his free hand, careful not to provoke _too much_, and landed it on Malik's side. The youth flinched but made no move to stop him. "He did something to you, your father." The confidence thickly layered in the other's pose and eyes flickered. "It's not him you're avenging."

Surprised that he wasn't quite dead yet, Seto reached farther, sliding the hand underneath the ridiculously thick hoodie. The skin was warm and he suspected it would have been perfect if not for the lines of scar tissue running across it. Malik's knife hand shook and the blade dug into the skin, drawing blood but not enough to be life threatening.

The blood drops slid downwards, getting Malik's attention for a second. The look in the unusual eyes lacked the excitement Seto had seen in Mikazuki's stare whenever Mokuba had skinned his knee or he had gotten a paper cut. The look was reluctant, bordering to disgust and he knew that Malik wasn't a killer at heart. A fact that could save his life.

"You know," Seto started, drawing his hand away and replacing it on the seat. "My stepfather preferred whips."

A realization flashed past Malik's features and Seto hung to it like a lifeline.

"You're not the only one with scars."

"Are you trying to score pity-points, _Seto_?" The name was spat out like he had wanted to call him something nasty but couldn't come up with anything worse.

The corner of his mouth switched upwards. "No. I'm _stalling_."

"Are you alright in there?"

Seto unlocked the door and as it opened, the blade dug deeper into his flesh and he could hear the opposite door opening to let out his assailant. Soon someone was by his side, pressing on his throat and yelling for an ambulance.

* * *

She had let her search and rescue mission go on long enough. As much as Malik's peace of mind was important to what was left of the family, she couldn't let him succeed. It had occurred to Ishizu too late what her little brother was up to and now that she couldn't save him from getting into trouble, at least she could take him away from this country.

Now, when everything else was falling apart, the police wouldn't lift a finger to help her. Ishizu had figured that it couldn't be too hard to find someone who always stood out in a crowd, but running into Malik was unlikely.

A strange sense of urgency rolled over her as she walked out of the lobby of another hotel that had windows facing the KaibaCorp building. She called a cab and told the driver to hurry. Could it be that Malik was leaving again?

They passed by the hospital; the entrance was blocked by frustrated cameramen and anxious reported. It looked like Kaiba wasn't giving interviews. A spark of hope made its way to her features. Maybe Malik _was_ leaving, escaping before he got caught. It wasn't his style to flee but then again, he hadn't been in situation like this before.

One of the windows on the far most wing was open and in a flash of clarity, Ishizu saw it shatter. She jumped on her seat and turned to see the window again before they drove too far. It was untouched but the feeling of unease increased within her.

Malik wasn't alright.

* * *

Kaiba was asleep when Bakura sat down next to his hospital bed. The doctor had said that the knife wound wasn't deep enough to threaten his life when treated properly. Figures Malik would blow his chance at Kaiba's life. Bakura hadn't thought he would get even this far but one can't always be right.

Mokuba had called him earlier and asked to check on the older brother. Bakura doubted he would have found out about "the accident" as fast. Kaiba sure as hell wouldn't have told him and Malik wouldn't rub his own failure in his face.

Kaiba stirred before opening his eyes and fixing his customary glare on Bakura. "I thought they'd only inform Mokuba."

"Just because you pretend to hate Me doesn't mean Mokuba has to. He was too busy to make it and _someone_ has to look after you."

The other snorted, annoyed. "I thought that's what the hospital personnel were for…"

Bakura smiled dryly. "Almost dead and still funny, I salute you."

"I didn't almost die, my driver did." Kaiba didn't elaborate but Bakura had already heard it all from a nurse. The driver had been drugged but had gotten help on time. Bakura didn't quite get why Malik had chosen to do things the way he had but didn't care to dwell on it. Kaiba was still alive and Malik was doing whatever people did when facing failure.

"I should have never left the office," Kaiba spoke again, something Bakura couldn't place disturbing his calm façade.

"What _were _you doing out of your office?"

Kaiba looked away at his socks. "There was someone I wanted to see." Bakura tilted his head at this. It was almost as if the other was ashamed. The answer, now that he thought about it, was as clear as day.

"Ryou. You went to see Ryou." Bakura held his laughter in with effort, only a small "tch" escaping him. Kaiba glared at him but he paid no heed. "How was it? Did you chew him out bad?"

The glare was turned to another direction. "I think it was the other way around." Bakura couldn't hold his laugh in anymore and it burst out, filling the room and causing a nurse walking by to glance in through the small window in the door.

"I wish I'd been there," he managed through the laughter before pulling himself together. Kaiba didn't look happy but then again, he never did. "Did you find out what you wanted to?"

"I suppose…" Kaiba frowned as he spoke and Bakura didn't press it. Judging from the small, hard to see signs, the impression Kaiba had of Ryou wasn't as negative as it could be. The CEO hadn't paid much attention to what, or who, Bakura did on his free time before.

"What about Malik?" he asked when the silence had gone on long enough. Kaiba turned to him again, his face as stoic as ever.

"I'll deal with it."

Bakura raised a brow. "Not the police?"

"No." The answer was final. Bakura doubted that the other could say "yes", or anything else for that matter, with such finality. But as long as he didn't have to deal with Malik, though it had been amusing while it lasted, he didn't care what came of the whole vengeance mess. There was more important things, and people, he could be doing.

* * *

"_It's not him you're avenging."_

The fog on the glass prevented him from seeing the KC tower for a brief moment. Working hard on keeping his breathing slow and steady, Malik leaned his forehead on the window glass, counting the times his breath fogged up the glass.

What the hell had he meant, "not him"? It wasn't like he was getting back at Seto for…

Himself. Malik balled his fist and let it thump against the see-through surface. It did nothing for his anger. He had had his one change and it was pretty damn obvious Seto hadn't died; the city was still standing.

There was no going home for him now. He should have died trying. Malik's eyes turned away from the tower, towards the pavement down below. The windows were locked from the outside but he could always break one. The fall would kill him for sure.

He reached to touch the scar that went so much deeper than the skin. His father had been on heavy medication after the incident but Malik… Maybe he should have been the one getting treated. It had been too easy to just hand his father the pills and let him overdose. No child should be able to do that.

And so, Seto had been wrong: Malik had already avenged himself. He had no grudge against his father anymore and was free to love him again. Ishizu didn't know and Rishid wouldn't speak of it because it was better if he bore the burden alone. Until now it hadn't felt so heavy but he no longer had the chance to make it up to his father.

Malik didn't curse coming to Domino; it had been his best option; but his own incapability to do things right. He should had just gone in there, get it done and not let Seto's words or actions sway him. He had been weak. No weakness could come between him and his goal again.

A desk stood between the window and the bed, hard and wooden. It was coupled with a chair of the same dark shade. Malik took a hold of the chair and shifted it experimentally. It was light enough to lift but he hoped it would still serve its purpose. He closed his eyes for a moment to clear his mind. He didn't want to think about his family and how this would affect them. They would be devastated, at first, but he was sure that once they learned all about his past actions, the pain would lessen and eventually disappear.

A loud banging of the door snapped him out of his calming state. Anger lit his eyes and made his mind foggy as it attacked him in a sudden surge. Malik didn't even consider that he could just ignore whoever was at the door and finish what he had started.

He marched to the door and yanked it open, the yell ready just behind his lips. All his actions came to a stop when faced with the person at the door. He choked on his yell as his eyes widened. Malik had to blink to keep tears at bay.

"Ishizu…"

* * *

It's time to re-re-re-re-r-r-r-r-review!


	13. love less hard

**A/N: **Hey people! I hope this update was faster than the last… I'll babble more at the end of the chapter. I have something unimportant to tell you.

* * *

**Shattered Crescent**

Part Thirteen

Ishizu's eyes glanced between the chair and the window before returning to Malik's. "Look at what you almost did…" Her voice was breaking under the emotion but her calm and collected nature won over and she didn't jump to hug Malik and she did not cry.

"Sister, I…" Malik looked away, wishing he could somehow wipe his eyes without his sister noticing. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"I was worried about you."

For some reason, the words stung. "How's Rishid?"

"He's fine. Everything will be alright once you're home."

Malik couldn't even face his sister and he knew there was no way he could ever look Rishid in the eye. "I can't come home."

"I won't leave you here."

Malik felt anger rising in him. He clenched his fists, glaring at the doorframe. "You can't decide what I do with my life." He fought hard not to yell.

"Not even when what you do affects your whole family?" Ishizu's voice held the same tension.

"I was trying to make things right," Malik ground out.

"By trying to kill a man? Trying to kill _yourself_?" Ishizu raised her voice, the control snapping. She hardly ever yelled or lost her temper.

"There was no other way!" He didn't turn to face his sister but the voice he had hoped to be firm was more of a cry than a yell. "I had to-I… After what I did…"

Ishizu placed a hand on his shaking shoulder. "Malik?"

"I couldn't tell you because I knew you'd hate me." His voice broke further. The show of affection was too much. "I gave him too many pills, sister." He knew she would understand.

Neither said anything for a while. Ishizu pulled Malik to face her by the shoulder and he let her. Arms wrapped around his slouched form. Malik didn't move to return the gesture but he didn't try to get away either.

"I trusted you with his medication so I am as much responsible as you are," Ishizu spoke, her head resting against his shoulder.

"No, Ishizu-" Malik wasn't allowed to continue.

"It's officially a suicide and it's better if we consider it as such. You can't blame _anyone_, least of all yourself, or Kaiba Seto."

Ishizu pulled away but kept her hands on Malik's shoulders, studying his face. "If you want to make it up to us, live."

* * *

Finally, they had arrested somebody. The chief was out flaunting their success, forgetting to mention that they had had help. Ryou had kept a close eye on the man behind bars, the small hope that maybe this would be it washing away during the early hours.

The evidence, dug up for them by KaibaCorp, told that he was responsible for that poor girl's father's death but that was about it.

It was difficult not to be at least a bit disappointed that the arrest didn't lead to anything bigger but Ryou knew he couldn't dwell on it. After the initial joy, the people in the station were falling back on their earlier passive state. It seemed that the short burst of hope had ended up driving everyone even deeper into hopelessness. Ryou was close to being with them in spirit.

He decided to concentrate on his work for the first time in a while. His concentration had been directed elsewhere when KaibaCorp had interfered but now was the time to look deeper into the scene with the dead reporter. Despite how horrid the latest murder appeared, it was difficult not to look at the photos. Ryou lifted each to get a closer look, placing the ones he had gazed onto the desk, arranging them into neat lines. No picture was out of line, all within the same distance from each other.

Ryou couldn't stop the frown from deepening as he came to terms with what he was looking at.

Something was breaking the pattern. There was no missing limb. Ryou felt out of the loop, though he knew he shouldn't; there was no "loop" to begin with. Still, most of the city associated him with the murderer. Maybe there should be a "loop".

Ryou's eyes widened. The citizens thought there was a connection and that was because…

"What was the name?" Ryou snapped the question into the air while searching the file for the information needed. A shout of "No way!" almost escaped him as he read the name he had only glanced at before. He recognized it. He had written and drawn stuff around this man's name not so long ago. Back then he had been so angry but now, as he stared at the name, he felt nothing but numb confusion. Could this be a coincidence?

"No…" he concluded. It was stupid to think the murderer didn't read the papers. '_ED_' might not be the most reliable source of information but people loved gossip and all things scandalous. Given that the scandal stayed far away from their lives, of course.

Ryou sat down and started to fiddle with one corner of a photo. It was possible that the murderer hadn't liked the article, either. But wouldn't that mean he didn't like all sort of publicity? The things presented as facts about Ryou had been worded not to be flattering but the murders hadn't been criticized too much so…

He felt a headache coming on. It was difficult to hold everything together anymore. Maybe there was no sense in all of this. Maybe his coworkers were right and this was a case of a mindless killer. It just struck him as odd that the limbs hadn't been going missing anymore, not in three victims. Ryou almost laughed at his own, morbid way of counting time. 'Three victims', he was horrible. If he was tired enough to think a life as time unit, he should be heading home, or to a mental institution.

Ryou glanced up to see if anyone was at a hearing distance. When no one was around, he leaned on the desk, counting fingers as he spoke. "First no-limb-victim, amusement factor… The second…" Ryou paused, glaring at the finger, not wanting to speak his thoughts aloud anymore. Speaking made things more real, which was his issue but his thoughts would be more manageable if he heard them.

He took a deep breath. "The second… me." He could see his name carved with neat cuts. "But the third…" Ryou thought of the newspaper, realizing that his thoughts were heading to a territory he did not want to go. He jumped right in anyway. "The third… us both." Though he had been the one getting badmouthed, he had been presented in a bad light. Shouldn't the murderer be glad? Why kill the reporter? Ryou refused to consider that the man had died _because_ he wrote untrue and insulting things about him. That would be just… insane.

Ryou smiled and shook his head. Stupid. When had he started thinking that he mattered in the greater scale of things?

* * *

Ryou's eyes snapped open when the voice calling his name got through to his sleep-fogged mind. Stiff and disorientated, it was a good thing he woke up to a familiar face.

"Honda..?"

His neck hurt when he raised his head and saw the other scolding at him like to a misbehaving child. "You didn't even get home last night," Honda muttered as if to grasp the situation. "I knew when you weren't at home and didn't answer your phone you'd be either with _him_," he jerked his head towards the door, "or here."

Ryou blinked, peeling off a photo stuck on his cheek. "Him?" He craned his aching neck to see behind Honda whose muttering was a tad too silent for him to pay much attention to it.

"Please tell him to stop calling you 'Ryou-muffin'…"

Bakura wiggled his fingers, leaning on the doorframe and looking rather amused. Ryou blushed in embarrassment, silently cursing Honda for letting Bakura catch him like this. Was this supposed to be some form of cruel punishment?

"You don't look too happy to see Me."

"Er…" Ryou rearranged his face so he wouldn't look like a sour puppy and managed a smile. "I am happy; it's just that I, uh…" How did that sentence continue?

The other waved it off and tried to shoo Honda out with the same motion. Honda glared, not moving an inch. "I fell asleep on My work once, had a perfect backwards copy of it on My cheek the next morning."

Ryou doubted the truth behind the story but appreciated the effort to make him feel better. Surely a painting would smear if someone fell asleep on it rather than copy itself on the sleeper's face. It was nice to notice that his brain was starting to work again. "How come you're here, anyway?"

"Your friend asked Me to come." Bakura gave a vague gesture towards Honda who changed his mind about not moving and inched to the door.

"I'll… leave you two." The next words were directed to Bakura, spoken more firmly, as if he wouldn't carry them out unless reminded. "Take him home, make sure he eats and gets some rest."

"Honda, I'm fine." Ryou's words fell to deaf to ears.

With one last look Honda was out the door, leaving Ryou unsure what had warranted such worry. Bakura's face gave him no hint as he searched it. The other had watched Honda go, too, but now turned back to Ryou, smirking. "So, will you come peacefully or do I have to drag you out of here."

Ryou started arranging away his photos as a sign that he would comply. "What did he say to you?" Ryou saw Bakura shrug from the corner of his eye.

"Ranted about your sleeping problem, and how you skip meals and bury yourself under all that work," he pointed at Ryou's stuff. "He seems to think that I'm more help than he is. Also, he doesn't like Me."

Ryou smiled a little. "You haven't been very nice to him."

"I haven't been _mean_ either," Bakura pointed out. "What kind of a man can't take a little bit of taunting?"

"A little bit?" Ryou asked, thinking that it was a lot more than that. "Everything you say to him is meant to put him down."

"Good thing it's not him I'm dating, isn't it?" Bakura sounded more snappish than Ryou had heard him sound before so he decided to drop it for now, not in the mood for a fight. It was true though that Bakura had been nice to him, in his own way, and had offered a shoulder to lean on when Ryou needed it the most.

Trapped in his thoughts for the time being, Ryou didn't pay attention to his hand that went to ease the tension in his neck.

"Are you sore?"

Ryou brought his hand away from his neck. He had been busted. "No, not too bad." He tried to smile, show that it wasn't a big deal and nothing Bakura should concern himself with. The other did, however, move closer, removing his hair from his neck and placing it over one shoulder. Cool fingers found their way to his skin and started working to ease the ache.

"You don't have to…" The protest was weak and went ignored. It did feel good, the touch, and Ryou found himself relaxing, leaning into it.

"Tell Me if I'm being too rough."

Ryou 'nnh'ed as a response, to tell Bakura that he was being gentle enough. Lips on his neck startled him and eyes he couldn't remember shutting snapped open. Something wetter, hotter, ran across his neck and after a moment's hesitation Ryou decided that it felt too good to stop now so he lent back to let the other work. Up his neck to his jaw line, to his mouth. The angle was awkward, with Bakura standing behind him, but not enough to stop Ryou from enjoying it. A more rational part of him tried to remind him that they were at the office but it was overshadowed by his body telling how nice Bakura's fingers felt caressing his neck and throat, dancing on his jugular. Ryou was sure Bakura could feel his heart rate getting faster.

The mouth on his started to move away and Ryou let out a whimper before he could stop it. He could feel Bakura smirk against his lips and cursed himself for being so needy, pulling away to calm down. It had been just a kiss, for crying out loud!

It took him a moment before he could look Bakura in the eye again. He didn't like the glint he was met with; it was too teasing, too knowing.

"I should get you home."

Ryou nodded, getting up from his chair to gather his things. He let Bakura pull him out by the hand even though he had agreed to leave without resistance. On their way out, his eyes met Honda's across the lobby. The other smiled at him but it only served to worry Ryou further. Honda didn't look happy; he looked defeated, even sad. He turned away just when Ryou got dragged out the door but the expression continued to haunt Ryou.

"Um, Bakura?" The other turned to him, slowing down a little so Ryou was no longer dragged behind. "What did Honda say about… you being more help than he is?"

Bakura seemed think it over. "He said you'd listen to Me since you hold Me in such high value." He smirked at Ryou's puzzled expression. "He thinks I'll replace him one of these days."

"But…" Ryou frowned. "You can't… I mean, he's my friend and you are…" Bakura was something so much more but Honda, too, was important, in a different way. Honda should have realized that. "I have to go back."

The hold Bakura got on his hand got tighter. "No, no. Wait." Ryou stopped to listen but kept glancing back to where they had come from. "If I let you go, I won't be doing My job and he'll never get off My case." Bakura grasped his chin to get his full attention. "Just let it go until tomorrow. You worry too much as it is."

Ryou moved to nod but realized that he couldn't so he whispered a tiny "yes" instead. He didn't agree on worrying too much and whether or not he would let it go until tomorrow could be questioned. What he was agreeing on wasn't all that clear to him. Bakura let him go.

"Let's go home, then." The strange choice of words didn't register to Ryou so he didn't realize it should bother him somehow. He yawned once they got through the door, while toeing off his shoes.

"Go to bed, Ryou. I'll fix you something."

He smiled at Bakura but instead of letting him leave for the kitchen, pulled him with him. "That can wait. Stay by me for a while." The other raised a frown but let himself be led.

The curtains were still pulled in the bedroom just like Ryou had left them the day before. They fit the single bed by lying down just so, both sideways, holding each other so neither would fall. Bakura's fingers found Ryou's scalp and the other sighed but it wasn't the content sigh that would have fit the situation.

"I still feel bad about Honda…" Especially since he was feeling so good right now.

It was Bakura's turn to sigh. "Ryou…"

"I hate the thought of him being sad just because I'm trying to be happy," Ryou confessed. He knew he had just ruined the peaceful mood, ruined their moment. "I think I should stop trying. People get hurt when I do." The light filtering through the curtains would have been enough for him to see Bakura's face if he had lifted his head a little. But right then, Ryou didn't think he wanted to see his expression. "Solving difficult cases makes me happy but for there to be a case, people have to get killed, and now Honda…"

The fingers in his hair had stilled and without realizing, Ryou held his breath, waiting for Bakura to say something.

"You're so silly." The fingers started again. "I can see why your friend is worried; you don't think about yourself enough." Bakura pulled Ryou a little closer. "Now sleep, foolish little thing."

Ryou didn't care for the "endearment"; it wasn't much of a step up from "Ryou-muffin". "I slept not so long ago…" Not that he wasn't tired or would mind sleeping right where he was.

"Yes, on a desk, after working most of the night," Bakura muttered. "I'd like some sleep, too. Close your eyes, worry-too-much."

There was no helping the small huff that escaped him. Ryou closed his eyes despite how he wanted to argue. "Stop calling me things like that." Bakura didn't reply.

* * *

Bakura stayed awake after Ryou had fallen asleep. He was tired; what's-his-name had woken him up with his emergency call. Worrying too much seemed to be contagious; he just hoped he wouldn't catch it. Ryou was fine now. As fine as anyone could be with him, anyway.

The thing with moral dilemmas was that they didn't go away by ignoring them. No matter how happy the arrangement made Ryou now, he would get hurt eventually. Ignorance was the easier option, the one that allowed Bakura to hold, and kiss, and touch Ryou without any additional feelings.

In thought, Bakura dragged his fingers through Ryou's hair. The other sighed, nuzzling closer. Bakura bent his head to see the sweet smile, in time to hear the soft murmur.

"'kura…"

It made his heart to stop for a few beats' time, provoking something in him. Guilt was a feeling he hadn't felt in years. He hadn't cared enough to.

Watching Ryou's sleeping face, he wondered if he had gotten in too deep. How much did he mean to Ryou? If he had cared about the other in the beginning, Bakura would have kept the relationship from becoming too serious. The problem was that he hadn't given a shit and now that he might be starting to, it was too late.

Slowly, careful not to wake Ryou, Bakura got up but now without planting a kiss on Ryou's forehead.

"Don't love me, don't you dare."

Ryou whimpered in his sleep, his arm searching for his companion but Bakura was already out the door.

* * *

**A/N:** "Don't love me, don't you dare" is from a song by Sonata Arctica, The Vice. The verse goes something like: "Don't love me, don't you dare/ I lie, I cheat, and I don't care". It reminded me of Bakura so I had to refer to it somehow. The chapter title is also from that song xD

Review and give me something to think about. Or if you feel like it, kill some of my brain cells. I have too many of those. Honestly.


	14. remaining, uninvited

**A/N:** Hiya. This chapter contains the vague explanation for Bakura's "lifestyle". Be afraid. It was clearer in my head but I fail to get it on paper. Oh and hey, the fic ends pretty soon (no, this isn't the last chapter), just thought you should know. Also, I don't like the part with Malik and Seto but I'm not sure what's wrong with it 0.o Tell me if you figure it out, ok?

* * *

**Shattered Crescent**

Part Fourteen

The combination of hunger and lack of Bakura stirred Ryou awake. It appeared that Bakura had taken his request to stay for 'a while' too seriously. Asking him to stay forever would have been a bad idea too, though.

Ryou got up to open the curtains. The sun shone into his eyes and did nothing to cheer him up. He knew he shouldn't feel this bad that Bakura had left without a word. Something must have come up. It wasn't like he was the only thing Bakura needed to attend to.

He didn't feel like staying indoors now that there was nothing to stay for. Ignoring his hunger, he went to put on his shoes.

* * *

"Why aren't you at home?" Hiroto was glad to put his work aside for a bit but it was in no way a good sign that Ryou was back, looking even worse than before leaving.

"Um, I needed to talk to you…" Ryou didn't look Hiroto in the eye.

"Can't it wait for tomorrow?"

"If you're busy…"

"It's not that," he cut the other off before Ryou could continue. "You're just not… You've seen better days." Hiroto frowned, realizing something was missing. "Where's that Mikazuki guy?"

"He left." Ryou's stomach protested so loudly even Hiroto didn't have trouble hearing it.

"Without feeding you?!" Last time he ever trusted that bastard to take care of Ryou. "He left you alone?!"

"You're making it sound like I'm a child… or a pet."

Hiroto forced himself to calm down. There was no use upsetting Ryou more. "Sorry, sorry… I thought he'd take better care of you."

Ryou smiled. "I hoped he would." He looked awkward for a moment. "Um, the reason I'm here… I just want you to know that Bakura, he… I mean, you're not less important just because I'm seeing someone."

"Oh." That wasn't what Hiroto had been expecting. "I thought it was a bit more than just 'seeing'."

Ryou blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I thought you were in love with him." Hiroto had always known that he wouldn't be Ryou's only comfort forever. In fact, he had hoped he wouldn't be so Ryou could be happy. Then 'Bakura' had waltzed right in and left Hiroto wondering how Ryou found the one guy he had no chance of getting along with.

Ryou turned an interesting shade of red while looking confused by Hiroto's assumption and irritated by his own reaction, or the other way around. "I'm not- I mean, it's not- I, we-"

Hiroto interrupted the other who looked rather overwhelmed. "It's ok, you don't have to explain it to me."

"I feel that I do." The red of his face faded somewhat. "I know you don't like him."

"Yeah, well…" Hiroto took a moment to think up a nice way to put it. "He's a bit of an asshole." Not that he had ever liked any of the people Ryou chose to get involved with but his dislike for 'Bakura' was in another category all together. If only Ryou didn't like the guy so much, Hiroto felt like he could learn to stand him.

Ryou laughed. "Don't let him get to you." He reached out to touch Hiroto's arm, smiling. "You're still my best friend."

For a reason he couldn't quite grasp, Hiroto had to face away. "Uh, yeah, you too."

After Ryou left, to go home he hoped, Hiroto was left rubbing his arm and wondering if the reassurance of their friendship being intact should have made him feel better than it had.

* * *

"_Mr. Kaiba, there's an Ishizu Ishtar here to see you._"

Seto told to send her in. Ishizu Ishtar, after entering, stopped to stand in the middle of the room, a good deal away from Seto's desk.

"I came here to apologize."

"Why didn't Malik come?" The first name slipped out almost without him noticing. Ishizu didn't miss it either.

"He didn't think you would take too kindly to him coming here."

Seto resisted the urge to smirk. "Ms. Ishtar, he gave me a flesh wound."

"He intended to kill you," Ms. Ishtar pointed out. She didn't look happy to be where she was, either. And she wasn't the one Seto wanted to talk to.

"Where is he?"

"You wish to see him," she stated as if there was some way she could know it without a doubt. She was well posed, and he could respect that, but if she kept assuming, they would have a problem. Seto didn't point any of this out, instead telling her that she was correct.

"He's waiting in the lobby."

The surprise showed only as a raised eyebrow before he had someone fetch Malik. Soon, the man was ushered through the door. He removed his hood and Seto offered him a smile as fake as they get, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.

"Have a seat."

Malik eyed the chair and glanced at his sister before sitting down. "I suppose I should thank you for not turning me in."

"Perhaps I was too lenient." To Seto, Malik didn't seem as sorry as his sister had made it sound.

"I only came here because Ishizu wanted me to," Malik explained, voice toneless but expression betraying his suspicion. "I don't know why." He looked as if he expected Seto to have an explanation.

"She must have thought you would apologize."

"There's nothing to apologize about."

"Really," Seto said. "Not even for attacking me?"

"The only reason I could feel sorry for is not managing to kill you."

"But you don't."

Malik looked over at his sister but turned his eyes back to Seto as he spoke. "No."

"Maybe that's why I won't turn you in."

Malik smirked but it was far from arrogant or victorious. "I don't think you needed to worry about getting killed in the first place." Ms. Ishtar sifted in the background. "I was _destined _to fail." Malik sounded bitter.

Seto wondered if that was what Malik thought or if his sister had forced the belief on him. "Destiny or no destiny, it doesn't change what happened. The past is of no importance." It wasn't meant as an 'I forgive you' but now that he thought of it, that was exactly what it sounded like.

The other looked at his feet as he mulled it over. His mouth started to tilt up a little in thought. "We should concentrate on the future, then."

Seto nodded. "Exactly."

When Malik lifted his head to face him, Seto saw that it wasn't a smirk. His eyes were smiling too.

* * *

Bakura woke up and realized he was holding onto his pillow with white knuckles. He loosened his grip, calming his breathing.

The dream hadn't been particularly erotic, just an alternative continuation of what had happened in Ryou's office. In stead of putting things to a stop when he had, his dream-self had taken things a little further, and the dream-Ryou had let him.

A shower was the better one of the two solutions he could think of because Bakura knew whose name he would be moaning if he touched himself.

Good thing he had cleaned his apartment the day before. The trek to the bathroom was easier when he didn't have to worry about tripping over things. He had never bothered with cleaning before but something had come over him and…

Alright, he had wanted to avoid thinking about a certain someone. The fact that he hadn't gone out to pick a fight must have meant that he was growing up. At least, cleaning felt like a grownup thing to do. Running out of someone's life just like that on the other hand didn't.

Bakura shook his head. He didn't want to think about Ryou; it made him feel bad.

He wasn't a vengeful teenager anymore. Later on in his life, when he had pushed aside all the self-righteous bullshit about getting back at the world for destroying his childhood, Bakura had realized that everything he did was to make himself feel better. It had never been about his parents who had died in such a tragic manner. It was because he was a self-centered asshole. The world was there to please _him_. All the people he killed or slept with barely counted as human beings.

Ryou had amused him greatly with his defiance and had managed to be desirable while doing so. The perfect new toy for a bored, spoiled child. The problem was that the toy felt and reacted to the things around him more strongly than the one playing. 'It' had turned out to be more human than 'he' could ever hope to be.

Bakura stopped to look at his ring after removing it from his finger and before placing it next to the sink. The small points hung around the wide band and reflected the bathroom light. It had belonged to his mother but she had always claimed it was the ugliest piece of jewelry.

After standing under the showerhead for what felt like enough, he toweled off and searched for clean clothes while drying his hair. He found his cell phone under a pile of clothing. It was turned off.

Shouldn't the knowledge that now Ryou could be happy make him feel better if he truly cared for the other? Bakura felt like crap and his own apathy was starting to irritate him. Thinking wouldn't make anything better, he had to _do_ something. A glance towards the window solved his problem.

There were rain clouds on the horizon. It was a good day for a little supply hunting.

It wasn't normal for him to be rash when it came to supplies. He planned, picked someone out of the crowd. Now, anyone walking down the street alone would do.

The graying clouds chased people back inside but there were still a few others out and about. He heard footsteps behind him and a glance over his shoulder told that it was a lone male with his nose in a newspaper. No one else was around.

He hid in an alley and waited until his target walked past. He grabbed it by the face so it couldn't scream and pulled back, deeper into the alley. The muffled sound of alarm changed into gurgling as blood ran down the victim's windpipe.

He listened to the sounds around him, the distant car motor, the rats in the alleyway trash, before letting go of the dead weight. They were deep enough in the alley to prevent a random by passer from seeing the body if said by passer wasn't paying attention.

The body had landed face first into the pavement so he turned it around. Empty eyes stared at nothing little to the left of his shoulder. He crouched over and removed a rubber glove to feel the blood gathering next to the victim.

This was supposed to help, to keep his mind from wandering to places he didn't need it to. Yet, even as he gazed at his red finger tips, all he could think about was the taste of Ryou's mouth.

* * *

Ryou tried calling Bakura, to find out why he had left in such a hurry, but no one picked up. After trying to reach the other for a few days without success, he gave up calling, feeling confused, a little let down.

Emerging himself in his work, Ryou pushed the feeling aside. He went through all his past notes and brought as much material from the station as he could, stacking everything in his living room. He tore off the post-it note reminding him not to make Honda worry from his bathroom mirror.

His friend tried calling him a couple of times before Ryou turned his phone off. He didn't want to be questioned about his relapse in working habits. The longer he stayed in the apartment, the harder it was to leave. The fridge and cupboards became empty as days went by. Ryou lost count of the times he just wandered into the kitchen, opened his fridge, realized it was empty and went back to the living room.

Being alone didn't do good things to his mental state. Sleep evaded him more and more, and when he did sleep, he had nightmares.

Honda came knocking on his door one day. Ryou considered not answering but when the other banged on the door, yelling that he wouldn't leave until Ryou opened, he did. Honda was holding two grocery bags, face twisted in worry and frustration. He took one look at Ryou and lifted the bags.

"I knew you'd need these," he told, pushing past Ryou into the apartment. Honda sighed when he looked at the piles of paper in the living room as he passed it on his way to the kitchen. Ryou followed suit after closing the door.

Honda placed the grocery bags on the kitchen table, turning to Ryou who stood in the doorway. "Why are you doing this to yourself?"

Ryou could tell that Honda worked hard not to sound accusing. He focused his stare on a chair leg before answering. "I had a lot of work to do." Not a complete lie.

"Why couldn't you work at the station, then?"

"I wanted some peace and quiet."

Honda didn't sound convinced. "Ryou…"

"Bakura won't answer my calls." Ryou's voice was barely above a whisper. For a moment he wasn't sure if Honda had heard. He hoped he hadn't.

"I fucking knew it," Honda muttered under his breath, then louder, addressing his words to Ryou. "Have you tried going to see him?"

Ryou had considered it but what were the chances of Bakura wanting to see him if he didn't even want to talk to him? "I don't know if I should…"

"You can't let him treat you like this."

"I…" He didn't have much to say to that.

"I thought he was into you," Honda went on. "You know what? You should search him out and kick his ass."

Ryou raised his eyes to meet Honda's. "You think he liked me?" He regretted not sticking with the chair leg; he didn't need to see the pity.

"I'm not an expert but it sure looked like it to me." Honda frowned in thought. "Or at least he wanted to sleep with you…" Something seemed to occur to him. "Don't tell me he dumped you after-?"

"No," Ryou interrupted. "We never slept together like that." He grimaced at how sad he sounded about it. He didn't want to think about it. "I just… I keep thinking that it was something I did. Something I said or didn't do that drove him away."

Honda sighed. "You would think that." He began to unload the bags, putting everything where it belonged. It wasn't the first time he had done the shopping for Ryou.

The notion caused Ryou to frown. "You think I'm wrong?" He couldn't help but sound irritated. The other stopped in the middle of placing something on a shelf, turning to Ryou.

"Listen, you think it's your fault by default and you're always _wrong_." He put the bag of sugar down, pausing as though thinking something over, all the while looking embarrassed, awkward. "You're the sweetest, the most caring, person I know. Only an idiot would find something wrong in that."

Honda looked away after speaking and left Ryou speechless. He hadn't heard his friend speak like that before. "Um, I…"

"At least go find out if he's as much of a fool as I think he is." Honda refused to look at him, instead starting to place the groceries on the shelves with more force than necessary. Ryou was still in a loss for words, wondering if the reason for the behavior was just the anger caused by Bakura mistreating him or if there was something else he couldn't see. Whatever the reason, Honda's advice wasn't bad.

"You should eat something first."

Ryou nodded and moved to take a seat, mute.

* * *

Brush moved on canvas, spreading the red over the white, large lines before the detail. Finished ones were leaning on the walls, standing on newspaper, and sketches for new ones were lined on the couch. Bakura had worked all night and it was long into the afternoon. Sleep was yet to catch him.

The figure in the painting was starting to take on some familiar features so he smeared it, painted over the old strokes. The doorbell rang, striking a nerve and earning an innocent painting a glare. Bakura marched to the door and threw it open.

He should learn how to check who it was before opening the door.

Ryou looked put down, the dark semi-circles under his eyes stood out more against his pale skin.

"Hi…"

Bakura stared, wondering how much of the other's state was his doing. It seemed that his valiant effort of keeping Ryou from getting hurt had hurt him more than expected.

"I don't know what I did to make you avoid me but I'm sorry, I really am."

The words made Bakura flinch. God, he had messed up. "There's nothing you need to feel sorry about."

"So," Ryou frowned, "'It's not you it's me', then?"

Laughing wouldn't be the best course of action but it was difficult to miss the irony. Bakura's mouth tilted up. "It _is_ Me."

Ryou didn't follow. The sadness on his face was getting replaced by anger. "If you want to break up with me, you should just tell me. Do you have any idea how much being ignored, without knowing why, hurts? Do you even care?"

"I _do_ care." He wished he didn't. "It's better if you stay away from Me."

"How is that better?!"

Bakura had nothing to say to that. Ryou looked worse _without_ him.

The lack of answer added frustration to the anger. "I don't get you. First you pursue me and when you have me you decide that it's better if we're not together. Do you have commitment issues or do you just enjoy being indecisive?"

"My options don't sound so good."

"If this is a joke to yo-" Ryou glared at the finger that had interrupted him but the worst of his anger seemed to melt away.

Bakura realized too late that it had been a mistake to touch Ryou. Whatever it was that he had interrupted Ryou for didn't feel so important now. The lips were soft.

"This," he whispered, not quite managing to lift his eyes enough to look Ryou in the eye, "is very serious."

Ryou stopped breathing, as though realizing what was about to happen before Bakura had the chance to act. The finger was removed in favor of lips. He had been stupid to think that he could stay away.

Ryou pushed him off. The eyes he was met with were shining with unshed tears. "Don't," Ryou shook his head. "Don't toy with me, please."

"I won't." This time Bakura took Ryou's head between his hands so he wouldn't get way. Ryou struggled, tried to pull away but Bakura, following his irrational and selfish desires, refused to let go.

When Ryou grabbed two fistfuls of his hair and yanked back, Bakura complied and backed away. The other's lips were swollen and he wiped his eyes on his sleeve before looking Bakura in the eye. The stare was accusing.

Bakura raised his hands and took a step back so that he was standing inside his apartment, leaving Ryou plenty of room to escape if Bakura tried something he didn't agree with.

"I'm sorry." Bakura wasn't sure if he meant it. Ryou didn't look so sure either.

"Look, I," he started. "I really like you, Bakura, and I missed you but…"

"Is this the part where you tell Me you never want to see Me again?"

Ryou smiled a little but didn't look happy about what he was going to say. "No. It's not." He sighed and Bakura noticed the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'd ask you to not make me regret it if I didn't know you would probably lie."

"Ouch." Ryou was right to assume what he did, though. Had he asked what he said he wouldn't, Bakura would have told him that he wouldn't regret it.

They stood there for a moment. Ryou wasn't looking him in the eye, rather at his cheek. "Um, you have…" he reached towards Bakura but stopped before he could touch him, hesitating and letting his hand fall back to his side. "You have something on your face," he told, pointing the spot from his own cheek, "Here."

"I was painting." Bakura made no move to wipe the stain off. He was about to ask the other to come in but Ryou beat him to it.

"Can I come watch?" Ryou asked. "If it won't disturb you."

Bakura smirked. "Come right in." He stepped aside so Ryou could comply. "And don't worry; I won't even remember that you're there."

That was a lie.

* * *

I dare you to tell me that thinking about one's only one while mercilessly killing isn't romantic.


	15. a fire without a spark

**A/N: **The chapter after this one is the last chapter. Yes, Shattered Crescent is coming to a close. I thought I'd give you a heads up so you wouldn't be taken by surprise and want my head. Enjoy! (while it lasts)

* * *

**Shattered Crescent**

Part Fifteen

As he sat on a spot on the couch he had cleared up, Ryou noticed that Bakura wasn't concentrating on his work. He was fidgety and on edge, tense. The lines he made seemed to lead nowhere. Ryou wanted to ask if there was something wrong but didn't think it would be a good idea to distract the other.

The balcony door was open, the breeze blowing in fresh and cool. Ryou kept watching Bakura, not paying attention to what the other was doing anymore, what the painting was about. Maybe Bakura was cold.

"Bakura?" Ryou tried to get the other's attention. Bakura spun around surprising Ryou with the swift movement.

"Yes?"

"Should I close the balcony door?"

"No, don't bother."

Ryou smiled a little. Despite the casual delivery, the reply had been too quick. If there was some ulterior motive for the door, Bakura could keep it to himself for now. Ryou was distracted by the red stain still on Bakura's cheek. He pulled out a tissue paper from his pocket and approached.

"Let me get that for you," he explained at Bakura's raised eyebrow, stopping centimeters from him. Bakura closed his other eye when the tissue touched his cheek but stayed still and let Ryou continue, even as the wiping turned more into caressing through the tissue.

Getting this close didn't feel like such a great idea. Ryou lowered his hand and eyes. He hadn't wanted Bakura to kiss him earlier and had fought it but…

It hadn't been so bad and that scared him. He shouldn't have enjoyed it the least bit.

"Um…"

A key turned in the lock. They both shifted to face the living room doorway, Ryou with a frown. Who had the key to Bakura's apartment? He glanced the other's way but didn't see anything to either alert or comfort him.

Kaiba Seto stopped at the doorway. His eyes travelled between the two still standing so close. "Did I interrupt something?"

Ryou took a step away from Bakura. It wasn't the silent accusation in Kaiba's eyes that made him move, but the near nonexistent change in Bakura. At Kaiba's arrival he had stuffed his hands in his pockets and lent back in a manner that could be relaxed but to Ryou, it looked too relaxed to be genuine.

Bakura had put his mask back on.

The realization made Ryou blink, wondering if he was learning to read the other or if he was just getting paranoid.

"Why are you here?" Bakura asked.

"I couldn't reach you by phone."

"Aw, you were worried, Seto? I'm touched." The previous, serious, if not suspicious, tone had bailed out and left playfulness on its wake. Ryou thought it was overdone but left it alone, moving to clear out a spot for Kaiba on the couch as it looked like he was staying.

"Sit, sit, I'll make us some coffee." Bakura turned to Ryou. "You'll keep him company, won't you?"

Ryou smiled, unsure of himself. "Of course."

After sitting down next to Ryou, with a frown that told he wasn't happy about the arrangement, Kaiba didn't look at him. It made Ryou remember the last time they had met all too well. He would have to try and make amends but there wasn't much they could talk about.

"So, um, how long have you known Bakura?" The silence after the question made Ryou think he wasn't going to get an answer.

"Since childhood."

Pleasantly surprised when he did get one, Ryou pushed on. His will to have a nice conversation was mixed with curiosity. "What was he like as a child?"

Kaiba glanced his way. "Angry."

Despite the glance he had taken as a good sign, Ryou thought that the conversation had died. But before he could think of another approach, Kaiba continued.

"He didn't talk much when he first came to the orphanage but when he did start talking, he always knew just what to say to make the grownups cry or pull out their hair. He ran off whenever he felt like it and oppressed the other children." Kaiba was looking at Ryou from the corner of his eye. "He's calmed down. I think he found an outlet."

Ryou listened, his eyes glued on the blue one. "Bakura's an orphan?"

"You didn't know."

He shook his head. "I didn't."

The blue eye turned to look at something ahead. "Perhaps it wasn't my place to tell you."

"It wasn't." Bakura stood near the end of the couch. Ryou hadn't heard him coming. "Seto, come give Me a hand with the coffee." He turned to leave and Kaiba followed soon after, leaving Ryou with his thoughts in the living room.

* * *

"Why didn't you give him My whole life story while you were at it," Mikazuki hissed once they made it to the kitchen. Seto remained unfazed.

"He asked, I felt strangely compelled to give him a decent answer." As suspected, the other didn't need help with the coffee.

"Whatever." Bakura poured himself a mug-full. "I wasn't keeping it from him, it just never came up."

Seto took the pot from his 'friend'. "Leave some for your sweetheart." He took the mug the other offered and filled it halfway. Bakura grinned over the rim of his mug.

"On the subject of sweethearts, how did things go with Malik?"

A well timed glare showed that the way the subject change was handled wasn't appreciated. "I'd hardly call him that and it's none of your business."

They had an understanding. Seto wouldn't call it friendship and knew Malik didn't consider it anything more than an agreement. What made Mikazuki choose the word 'sweetheart' was lost to him. No surprise there.

He admitted, though, that Mikazuki's taste in partners had improved. Bakura Ryou was polite without being a doormat and there was nothing about him that screamed 'slut'. Mokuba would like him.

Seto almost snorted in his coffee. Here he was thinking that this Ryou could be a more permanent addition to their circle. Knowing Bakura, the chance of Ryou sticking around was close to zero. It wasn't his concern either way.

* * *

Malik didn't know how he should feel about Seto now that he no longer wanted to take his life. A part of him went on degrading rants about how he had missed his chance, how the similarities of their pasts shouldn't have changed anything. But nothing could change how the image of Seto he had created in his mind and hated, had shattered.

If hate was what he felt, he wouldn't be carrying Seto's personal e-mail address in his pants pocket. Nor would he finger the slip of paper it was written on as he and his sister walked across the airport like it was some sort of an amulet.

Rishid was waiting for them somewhere within the crowd. Malik's palms sweated. Ishizu was walking too fast; people were letting her through when they shouldn't.

He saw Rishid's head above the crowd before they could reach him. Ishizu spotted him too and as they approached, Malik made sure to look little to the left of his brother. Ishizu watched him from the corner of her eye but he ignored her for the most part.

Rishid had always respected Malik's choices, only offering advice when he was asked for it. He wouldn't disapprove this time either, Malik knew, but that was why facing him was so difficult. Malik wished Rishid would scold him. He would deserve it.

They stopped in front of Rishid who nodded at Ishizu and tried to search Malik's eyes. "Welcome back."

"It's good to be back." Malik was looking at his brother's left ear. It would take some time before he could look either of his siblings straight in the eye.

* * *

Ryou had wondered why they couldn't drink their coffee in the kitchen. As he watched and listened the other two exchange remarks, it became clear to him: A room as small as the kitchen wouldn't have had any chance of containing both of their egos.

Kaiba had told him that they had known each other most of their lives. They both had a good grasp of how to get under the other's skin but they weren't _close_. Bakura acted different around Kaiba than he had just moments ago with Ryou. It made him happy to know the other was letting his guard down around him but that it had taken this long for Bakura to start opening up…

"I think your witty remarks about Me and Ryou here would work better if the other party was paying attention too."

Bakura spoke to Kaiba but when Ryou focused his gaze on him, it wasn't Kaiba Bakura was looking at.

"Oh." Ryou gripped his mug tighter and looked down at it. "I wasn't listening that carefully, sorry." During the past few minutes, he had been more focused on how things were said than what was said.

"I noticed. What's going through that head of yours?" Bakura, who sat between him and Kaiba, poked Ryou's temple.

Ryou leaned away from the finger but didn't look up. "Um, just things…" Now that he had been spotted and caught, he felt embarrassed. It was a different matter to try and figure someone out based on documents than for the person to be there and know about it. He had a feeling that Bakura, if not Kaiba too, knew that he hadn't been spacing out.

He found it in him to face them and smile. "I was just thinking. It's nothing important."

Kaiba sipped his coffee, expressionless, and glanced over at Bakura who raised his brows. Ryou knew his half truth had been detected. "Uh…"

"If you say so."

Much to Ryou's surprise, it was Kaiba to the rescue. The comment prevented Bakura from tossing in his input and cleared away most of the awkward air Ryou felt surrounded with. He stared at the taller man over Bakura's head for a moment before his smile came back, genuine. Kaiba didn't grant it any special attention but Bakura noticed.

"Looks like you're officially a human being now," he told Ryou. "Congratulations."

Ryou laughed. "Um, thank you, I guess." Should he be flattered? "I didn't realize I wasn't one before." Something flashed on Bakura's face. It was gone once it appeared and Ryou felt inclined to think it was his imagination. He took a second to study the other but the smirk didn't waver again.

"Seto here didn't think so."

The man in question snorted. "You forget who the root of all evil is, Mikazuki. Why don't you tell him about your relationship status before he came along."

Ryou frowned a touch and noticed Bakura do the same. He hadn't been told anything and hadn't felt the need to ask. Though, from the way Bakura had acted towards him in the beginning, he had concluded that the other wasn't one for long-term relationships.

Bakura recovered much faster than Ryou did. "You're right, I should." He stood up, claiming Ryou's mug on his way up. "Walk us to the door, Seto?"

"We are not done here," Kaiba told, facing Bakura and standing up as well. Ryou felt small sitting on the couch so he followed suit, fiddling with his mug-less hands. He hadn't had the chance to finish his coffee.

"We are for now. In case you haven't noticed, Ryou here isn't in his best shape. I need to take him home."

"I'm fi-," Ryou started but didn't get the words out before Bakura overrode him.

"I'll switch My phone on so you can call Me later."

The disapproval radiating off Kaiba was lost to Ryou. He was too busy staring after Bakura who disappeared into the kitchen with their mugs. Bakura's phone had been turned off. It wasn't new information but it reminded him about having been avoided without an explanation. He had turned his phone off, during 'the avoidance'. That had been to escape Honda and his worry. Bakura hadn't returned Kaiba's calls either.

It didn't make sense. Hadn't Ryou been the only one Bakura had avoided?

Before Ryou could drown himself too deep into his thoughts, he was guided through Bakura's apartment door. Bakura had a hand between his shoulder plates but it moved higher once they entered the elevator. Kaiba was looking more grumpy than usual. Ryou decided he wanted answers.

The elevator ride was long, as if the transport wanted to prolong their suffering. Kaiba had parked his car in front of the building. Bakura grinned and waved as the other unlocked the vehicle without looking back. It was sunny out, a fact that Ryou hadn't paid attention to earlier. How long had he stayed indoors? He studied the outside world while Kaiba started his engine. The building across the street was an exact replica of the one behind him.

After Kaiba's car pulled out, Ryou dared a peek at Bakura. He wasn't grinning anymore.

"Hey," Ryou tried. Bakura was staring straight ahead. "I hope you're not mad at Kaiba for telling me."

"I'm not mad."

Ryou sighed. This new less suave side of Bakura wasn't any easier to understand. It made him reachable.

"I wish it would've been you who told me."

"I wasn't keeping it from you."

A smile tugged at Ryou's lips. The other kept looking at the building across from them. So defensive. "It just never came up, right?"

Bakura faced him, and bit by bit, his grin came back. "Exactly. That is what I told dear Seto but he just shrugged it off, being his charming self."

Ryou's face lit up and he had to hide his mouth to keep his laughter at bay. "He's not so bad, once he lets you past the exterior." The amusement was still evident in his eyes. "A bit like you."

"The difference between us is that Seto has a heart of gold under all those layers of bastard."

"I don't care much for gold."

Bakura reacted to the confession like Ryou had just struck him with a verbal sledgehammer. "Huh..?"

Ryou glanced at his shoes. What was he saying? "You heard me."

"Yes, well, I… Shit Ryou, don't say things like that!"

Ryou blinked up at Bakura. Somehow 'Bakura' and 'in a loss for words' didn't fit together well in Ryou's head. Though, what he had blurted out wasn't what he had meant to say. It was too close to "_I love you so please love me back._" That wasn't something he wanted to say at all. So Ryou let his head drop and got ready to apologize. "I-"

"I keep things from you and I sleep around. I'm pretty sure those are not qualities you're looking for in a partner."

The apology turned into a question. "Have you during the past few weeks?" It was a good thing Bakura understood without Ryou having to make sense.

"Kept things from you, yes. Slept around, no."

One could wonder if someone who admitted to keeping secrets, told that he hadn't done something, was just keeping a secret. Ryou decided to take a leap of faith and see where he landed. "I thought you were going to take me home," he smiled, taking hold of Bakura's hand.

* * *

Bakura arched a brow at the paper stack fortress in Ryou's living room. Piles of paper rose form the coffee table and the couch, crumbled balls littered the entrance. The living room was a white minefield.

"Er…" The bridge of Ryou's nose turned pink as he beheld the mess. "I forgot how horrible it is."

"I've seen worse." Bakura put a consoling hand on Ryou's shoulder while hiding his smirk with the other. He could make organized-Ryou make such a mess, and he could make Ryou a mess. He wasn't sure if he felt satisfied or guilty.

Ryou seemed to snap out of his shock and started to clear out the room, kicking the paper balls into a pile. "I worked nonstop a few days," he told while moving the piles from the couch. "It paid off, somewhat." Done with the couch, he rose to face Bakura. "I know why he takes limbs."

Bakura had to be careful not to show how intrigued he was. "Oh?" It didn't feel safe to say anything more.

"I thought something was off with that, especially since he suddenly stopped." Ryou sat down and motioned Bakura to do the same. "Then there's that missing mug from the reporter's place…" he mused more to himself before remembering Bakura was there, too. "So, it's not really the limb he wants, he probably gets rid of it somehow."

While sitting next to Ryou, Bakura had, without realizing it, leaned closer, waiting for the climax. "What does he want?"

Ryou met his eye, shrinking a little under his gaze. Bakura eased back, remembering to breathe.

"Blood," Ryou stated. "I don't know why but that's what he's after."

"You think the knowledge will help you catch him?" Bakura found his more casual tone, berating himself for losing control. His façade had picked the oddest time to shatter. He blamed it on Ryou.

The other took his time thinking the question through. Bakura wanted to play with his hands but deemed it stupid. He had been spending too much time with Ryou. No, they had been spending too much time _together_. Ryou raised eyebrows and Bakura fiddled with his hands. Next, their little cop and robber game would get turned upside-down. Bakura rolled his eyes at that.

"Well," Ryou started. "It does give me some pointers… I mean, it'll give some pointers to the police." He looked down to his hands. "Er, once I've figured out what it means and told them about it so-"

"Ryou," Bakura smiled halfway at Ryou's baffled expression. "Cut the crap."

"What-? I'm not-"

"Give yourself some credit. Everyone knows it's you who does all the work."

"No, it's not like that at al-," Ryou tried to protest. Annoyance flashed on his face when he got interrupted again.

"They might do something once in a while but it's you who points them to the right direction. And you're _always_ right." Ryou looked ready to throw something in so Bakura pushed on before he could. "In the end, you are. But you're still… humble," he spat the word out, "because you are blind to your own greatness."

All fight left Ryou and he just opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what he could say. He stared at Bakura like he had, once.

_The eyes were aimed at Bakura, flickering to the rain-beaten window behind him, without _looking at_ Bakura but rather somewhere beyond him._

Then, Ryou had thought he had seen an angel.

Bakura worked to ignore it. "Unlike Me. I _know_ I'm greatness given flesh." He wasn't aware that he had started to babble, to say more than he had meant to. Had Bakura stopped to think, he would have realized what Ryou already had. All that praise sounded like the start to a love confession.

He wasn't allowed to realize, and perhaps that was a good thing. Ryou kissed him. There was nothing innocent about how Ryou pushed him back by the shoulders and bit his lip.

The surprise faded away. Bakura decided he rather liked the position as it gave him free access to Ryou's ass. For the first time, he wished there was nothing Ryou needed to find out. That they could be _Us_ without him getting the feeling that he was leading Ryou on. Was this what regret felt like?

"Bakura?" Ryou's voice broke through. His eyes were concerned. Bakura moved his hands to rest on Ryou's head and a glint caught his eye. The ring on his right middle finger flickered in the light of the living room overhead lamp. One of the points was missing.

"…Um, Bakura? Is there… Are you alright?" Ryou hesitated with his words. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have just…"

Bakura grasped too late what stopping must have seemed like. "No, Ryou, it's not that." He smirked, slipping back in-character. "I most certainly enjoyed it. Feel free to jump Me anytime." Ryou blushed. "As sad as I am to admit it, I remembered an issue I must deal with before I can…" He added teeth to the smirk, tracing a finger down Ryou's cheek, "Hm, _thoroughly enjoy you_."

Ryou's "Oh" was something between eager and disappointed. "An issue." He got off Bakura, flicking away some imaginary dust after standing up. For a moment, he looked suspicious but didn't voice it. "I should finish cleaning in here, since you're leaving."

Bakura was better at hiding his emotions about Ryou's dismissal. "I agree." He got up, moving to the doorway. Before he could walk through it, he stopped but didn't turn to face the other. "Ryou. It's not because I don't want to."

"I know."

* * *

This chapter has been Beta-read (gasp!). Does it show?


	16. endless nightmare

**A/N:** The final chapter. I was going to add some explanation here but… I decided against it in the end. If you're confused, ask me. I'll see if I know what's going on. Don't let the chapter title scare you away. It's more symbolic than anything. And as always, I'd like to know your thoughts on anything and everything. Thank you for sticking with this thing I call a story!

* * *

**Shattered Crescent**

Part Sixteen

Bakura had lost one of the delicate points hanging from the band of his ring. It could have just fallen off. The craftsmanship was excellent but nothing lasted forever. There was no reason to panic and yet, he backtracked his steps and Ryou's steps and Kaiba's steps. He never missed a shiny object, no matter how tiny.

He frowned as he searched from under the mattress. How long had it been since the tiny bastard fell off? He had no idea. Ryou didn't even need to be in the room to make him stray off course.

The bathroom door couldn't open fast enough for Bakura to barge in. His eyes found the sink without help from the overhead lamp. Had it got washed down the drain?

"I took the ring off," he muttered, turning on his heel and slamming the door shut. He had been calmer after showering.

If he hadn't lost the damned thing after Ryou stopped by... Bakura checked that he had his keys and stalked out of the apartment.

_Even as he gazed at his red finger tips, all he could think about was the taste of Ryou's mouth. _

The streets weren't as empty as before. He passed by people, hardly noticing them. They weren't important. Bakura came to a halt near the alley. Someone had found the poor victim, as expected. Had he been thinking straight, he would have hid the leftovers better. He snorted. No thinking straight for him, not with Ryou.

Nothing glittered gold in the alleyway. The dirty yellow police tape just didn't cut it. A sense of irony washed over him and made him chuckle under his breath. The police station was next on his places to visit, then. Bakura hoped his hunch wasn't right. It always was.

He didn't know what he would do when Ryou found out. But he would wait. He would wait for Ryou to discover the truth and see what happened. If Ryou turned his back on him…

The blade was always at hand.

* * *

Seto put his phone away, a scowl on his face. When Mikazuki had told him to call later, Seto had thought that the other would pick up to say something more than, "_Can't talk right now, bye_."

"Maybe you should be grateful he even picked up," Mokuba remarked from his spot, flicking through something not work-related. "You think it has something to do with Ryou again?" The leather chair in the office corner creaked as the younger shifted to get a better look at his brother.

The scowl disappeared and Seto raised a brow. "It's 'Ryou' now?"

"I can't call him 'Bakura'. That'd be weird."

Seto's computer announced that he had mail. He marked it as important, deciding to read it during his next break. It was the second time within the last couple of days Malik had contacted him. Seto found that he didn't mind.

"I hope he sticks around." Mokuba put his light reading away and gathered his things, getting ready to go back to work.

"That is not up to us."

* * *

Ryou thought he saw Bakura but the figure vanished before he could get a decent look in. Bakura was everywhere he looked, Ryou mused with a small smile. He was losing it. How could he mistake someone else for the man? Bakura was one of a kind.

He needed to focus. He had come to get some work done, and to prove he was alive. Daydreaming wasn't on the agenda.

From all the random pieces of info thrown at him, Ryou had gathered that a new victim had been found. Nothing too gruesome, a sliced throat and blood spread around. Ryou didn't bother scolding himself for thinking that it wasn't as bad. Was he growing numb?

His thoughts drifted back to yesterday and to the spit-exchange with Bakura. A blush took place. He was definitely not growing numb in any shape or form.

Feeling his concentration slipping again, he got up from the desk chair. If no one brought him information, he would have to go find some. Details were what he worked with and without them, there was no use for him.

Ryou poked his head through the doorway. The hallway leading to the lobby was empty at first glance but he could hear footsteps from around a corner. The light on the ceiling above him flickered. Ryou glanced up to frown at it before making eye contact with the one coming down the hall. He couldn't recall the name of the coworker but seeing the file the other was carrying, Ryou flashed him a smile.

"Is that for me?"

"Yup, sorry it took so long but we were debating on if we should show you this," he held a small plastic bag between his pointer and thumb, "or just a photo of it. But in the end-"

Before the other could finish the sentence, Ryou snatched the small bag. He didn't pay attention on the surprised expression his actions got. Something had glimmered gold inside the plastic cover, causing a chill to run down his spine. He couldn't tear his eyes off the tiny golden point.

"Hey, are you alright?"

The question didn't get Ryou's attention. "I'm quite fine, thank you," he replied out of habit before turning on his heel and shutting the door behind him. He heard a muffled cry of protest as he sank on the floor, his back against the door. The point belonged to Bakura.

Ryou spread the contents of the file on the floor. He had to know where they had found it.

A slit throat. A pool of blood. A piece of Bakura's ring covered in red.

It couldn't be. There had to be some mistake, some other explanation for everything. It was just a coincidence. Maybe Bakura had found the victim and the tiny thing had just fell off in the process.

But the one who had called the police hadn't been Bakura and this wasn't the first piece of evidence pointing towards the ring. There had been an earlier incident where the victim had fought and gotten a bruise and a strange mark on his cheek.

Ryou found himself arranging the photos and documents into neat lines on the floor. The paintings were red, he realized. Who did he have on his wall? A part of him insisted that there was no way Bakura was involved, that the relationship couldn't be a bigger mess than the ones before it. The part was overridden.

Guilt, for not trusting Bakura even though he had decided to, made him want to know for sure without mixing the police in. Ryou snuck out of his workplace, careful not to look like he was doing something he shouldn't. What he _should_ do, he didn't want to think about. Not yet.

Honda noticed him from across the lobby before he could make it out the door. He considered storming out but knew that Honda would follow. In stead, he slowed his pace and made eye contact. Honda's suspicious frown was replaced with a half grin when Ryou smiled at him. They were ok, despite the awkward air during their last meeting.

Good. He couldn't tell Honda. Honda would search Bakura out and start a fight, back-up or no back-up. Based on what Ryou knew about the murderer and his methods…

Ryou paled. Bakura fit the profile.

So, based on what he knew about _Bakura_, Ryou did not want Honda to attempt fighting him. Honda could handle himself but Bakura had precision the other only dreamed of. Ryou knew he was leaving his friend out of the loop again but Hiroto's life was more important than his feelings.

It scared him, the confusion. Not that he had even been sure about anything when it came to Bakura. Ryou had never thought he could be levelheaded. When had he ever acted professionally? Bakura was collected to the point of being cold; something Ryou could only hope to be more like.

Could he die? Ryou refused to think about it. The thought that Bakura might want his life was difficult to digest. He wanted to hate Bakura but the emotion was slow in coming. When could he hate? Everything would be easier to deal with if he felt betrayed. The rest of his emotions wouldn't get in the way.

He had been wronged, hadn't he? Bakura had toyed with him and lied to him and the terrible things Bakura had done to all the victims. Ryou frowned at his train of thought; he didn't know for sure yet.

"_It's better if you stay away from Me." _

Bakura had tried to put an end to the relationship but Ryou hadn't let him.

"_I keep things from you and I sleep around."_

Bakura had told that he was a liar but Ryou had let it slide.

In a strange way, the honesty was there. Bakura had never raised his hand against Ryou. He had made Ryou feel like he was worth _something_.

Ryou walked faster to shake the thoughts away. "I don't care anymore," he swore to the street ahead of him. The words were weightless and blown away by the breeze.

He did care, for all the wrong things.

* * *

Ryou had called. He had said it was urgent, that they needed to talk. The call was what Bakura had been expecting and hoping for.

The walk to Ryou's building was shorter than he remembered. He was sure that the running had something to do with it. The locked door and the intercom didn't slow him down much. Hesitating wasn't an option. Bakura knew he wouldn't back down if he stopped and thought it through. But Ryou might. If he took too long, Ryou could decide that he didn't want to confront him. He couldn't have that. He needed to know how much the past few weeks had been worth.

Ryou opened the door for him. There was no proper greeting, just a nod and a gesture to come in. Bakura followed, closing the door behind him and making sure it was locked. Having someone walk in on them would be unfortunate.

In the living room, the papers had been cleared out. Bakura frowned. The sparking surfaces and the lack of trash were almost intimidating. Ryou stopped near the bookshelf placed against the far wall. The corner of the gift painting was peeking from behind the shelf. At least Ryou had kept it. The knowledge made Bakura feel something aching to relief.

He stopped studying the room and met eyes with Ryou. What shocked him even more than the state of the apartment, was that he couldn't read the expression on Ryou's face.

"You know why you're here, don't you?"

It wasn't a question. Beneath all the cold, Bakura heard a waver in Ryou's voice and latched onto it. Fear he could work with.

"I can make an educated guess," he replied. Confidence came back into his posture. Bakura decided that he would mimic his old self until everything was over with. If he mixed emotions in, his resolve would fade and Ryou would get away with anything he wished.

Ryou glared at him as he moved between him and the doorway. It was obvious that the other hadn't thought this through; otherwise he would have packed Bakura against the wall. Placing himself in a situation where he couldn't escape from, Ryou was getting sloppy.

"I considered burning _that_," Ryou jerked his head towards the shelf and the painting, "but then I figured it's evidence."

The statement stabbed Bakura deeper than he was willing to admit. His fist closed as Ryou dug a small plastic bag from his pocket. It held the missing piece of the ring.

"They found this from the crime scene." Ryou held the bag out. In the light coming from the doorway, the point glinted like Bakura had known it would. The glint distracted him for a moment but when he refocused on Ryou's eyes, he saw desperation. Ryou's face was hard but his eyes pleaded for Bakura to deny everything, to tell him that he was being stupid. Bakura was tempted to.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Ryou asked, the cold melting away little by little. "I can turn you in, based on the evidence-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence before Bakura flicked the blade open and the words caught into his throat. Ryou stared at the knife as Bakura approached him. A grin came uninvited and Ryou's eyes kept getting wider.

"And how are you going to explain how you attained this evidence?" Bakura drawled. "You wouldn't have any of it if we weren't… romantically involved." One sudden movement and he had Ryou against the bookshelf. The fright in Ryou's eyes lessened the grin to a smirk. "In a relationship with the murderer. A bit questionable, isn't it?" He guided Ryou's face up with the tip of his blade. The new angle made Ryou look almost too tempting. "Who would want to hire you when you keep such company?" Bakura traced the outline of the neck in front of him with the blunt side. He had to focus.

Ryou shivered. "I-I have to turn you in."

"Hmm. But that would mean a great deal of trouble for both of us." Bakura tore his stare away from Ryou's neck to look him in the eye. Ryou was the one thing he was sincere about. "So I have a proposition to make."

Brown eyes narrowed. "I don't make deals with-"

"Murderers?" Bakura interjected. "I am asking you as Mikazuki Bakura, the person I thought you cared about. Hear Me out, Ryou." The urge to press the knife against Ryou's throat and force him to listen was great. Perhaps if they were strangers, he could have imagined it working. But as things were, he knew there was no way to force-feed his views to the other.

As though careful not to be fooled too easily, Ryou let the glare slip away. His eyes were soft and familiar. "Please," he reached out, careful not to provoke, "Bakura, put the knife away."

Bakura let Ryou's hand land on his. "Wait until you find more evidence. Give Me a chance to disappear." Outside he was asking, keeping his wits. Inside he was pleading for Ryou to understand he wasn't asking for his own sake.

"You know I can't."

He gripped the blade tighter. "Don't you want Me, Ryou?"

The defiance in Ryou disappeared. Now, his face mirrored the desperation Bakura felt. "No."

"Are you sure?" Bakura wanted to scream. It wasn't him who was threatening a life anymore. Ryou held the knife on his throat and all he wanted to do was to beg Ryou to spare him, to not kill the human he had found inside.

Ryou broke. Tears leaked from his eyes and the hold on Bakura's hand got tighter. "-kura," he said between sobs. "I should hate you…"

"Don't you?"

"I can't!" he screamed, taking hold of Bakura's collar. "I'm so selfish."

The outburst left Bakura so shaken he forgot to react. Gathering his wits took a moment but soon the knife disappeared back into his pocket as fast as it had appeared. He placed a hand on either side of Ryou's face, mindful not to move too fast. "Then, let Me save you from My mistakes."

Bakura had no words for what he felt. 'I love you' meant nothing. So he yanked Ryou's head back and pressed his tongue against the pulse point, desperate for the intimate knowledge that Ryou was alive, that he hadn't killed him. Ryou gasped, whether from surprise or fear, Bakura couldn't tell.

"What are you doing?" Ryou's hands gripped Bakura's shoulders to either push away or pull closer. He tried both but did neither, as though torn between the two options. The grip on his head was painful but Bakura's mouth was gentle.

He wanted to hurt Ryou for considering turning him in, but he had expected no less from the other. He wanted to hold Ryou close and be gentle, for the other had once again surpassed all his expectations. Torn between the two options, Bakura let Ryou decide. He loosened his grip enough for the other to escape if he pleased but the effect the action had was the exact opposite. Ryou's head fell back to rest on Bakura's hands and he pressed close, bringing his arms around the shoulders he had been holding on to.

"Hold me for a while," Ryou whispered. "Until we have to part."

Bakura nodded against Ryou's throat. He buried his fingers in the other's hair and wrapped his other arm around Ryou's middle and held on for dear life. For Ryou's life, mostly, for being this close, hearing his pulse, was driving Bakura mad.

"Bakura?" Ryou's voice was soft. At the questioning tone, Bakura pulled his face away from the other's throat. It felt important to look at Ryou, whatever it was that he wanted to ask. And Bakura needed a distraction.

"Would you turn yourself in if I asked you to?"

There was nothing on Ryou's face suggesting that he expected a yes for an answer. Bakura smirked. Their noses brushed as he tilted his head to a side.

"I'm a killer first and a lover second."

Ryou searched Bakura's eyes for something, for a hint of dishonesty perhaps, before letting his head fall in a nod. His eyes stayed low, studying Bakura's collar. "I'll make sure you'll be locked away, sooner or later." He looked at Bakura in the eye again. "I hope you realize that."

Fear had disappeared from Ryou and Bakura wondered if it was ever there in the first place. He ran his fingers down the other's cheek with gentleness he didn't know he had. "It's not like anyone else stands a chance."

All he would need to do was to lean in the tiniest bit, tighten his hold a little, and he could have Ryou pressed against him, to taste and to touch. Ryou's breathing wasn't regular either. But Bakura didn't. It had to be the respect-thing he had heard people mention.

"Ryou?" he started with the certainty of one who had never asked permission for anything. Ryou urged him to continue. Instead of uttering the words, he loosened his hold, almost letting go, and brushed his lips on Ryou's.

Ryou recoiled. He didn't struggle or remove his hold on Bakura, just backed away from the touch. "We shouldn't."

The gentle rejection was harder to deal with than a violent one would have been. Bakura groaned, resisting the urge to grab the other by the hair. "Please."

A moment of silence passed where Ryou stared at the other with a feeling deeper than shock. Then, he took hold of Bakura's hair and kissed him, deep and desperate. Bakura knew he had gotten the permission he needed, but only for tonight.

* * *

Bakura had left. He had made his escape during the small hours and Ryou had done nothing to stop him. It hadn't gone the way Ryou had thought it would, the conversation. His anger hadn't lasted through it. His sense of duty had failed him. Ryou kept his eyes closed, hoping to feel more disappointed. He had sold his soul for a moment with someone he should hate.

No one had died, though Ryou was fairly sure that if he searched the floor around him, he would find his brain somewhere. He could hide under the blanket and lean his head on a fallen couch cushion for a moment longer before he had to get up and face himself. His hand hit the leg of the coffee table and followed it up. Ryou wanted to see if he could find out what Bakura had scribbled for him without getting up.

His fingers brushed against a piece of paper. The note disappeared under the blanket as Ryou pulled it to him, rubbing his eyes and letting them adjust to the relative darkness. Bakura's extravagant handwriting made the words difficult to read.

Ryou squinted and a smile lifted the corner of his mouth.

_Catch Me if You can_

* * *

I can't believe the fic just ended. What can I say to get you to throw some reviews my way?


End file.
